Ragnar of the Eagle Clan
by Tantris
Summary: This story is another offshoot of "The Angry Boy" and tells the tale of Ragnar, the stripling who killed Kensie Poldara's horse Blood. The story begins just before the battle at Rushton. It will deal with how Ragnar becomes a Valdemaran. Ragnar has a Glorious Destiny; the Glorious Funeral is optional ;) The Velgarth Universe belongs to Mercedes Lackey.
1. Chapter 1 - The Raid

Chapter 1 – The Raid

" _A true initiation never ends." - Robert Anton Wilson_ _  
_

Ragnar son of Einar stood proudly before Shaman Kadir as the blade sliced across his forehead, blooding him as a warrior of the Eagle Clan. Tonight, in the dark of the moon, he would dance the fire with the men of the ships. In the morning, he would sail in his father's ship to raid the lands of the vámr for goods and slaves.

The sting of the knife was nothing; Ragnar had borne far worse in his warrior training. His blood flowed down his face.

"The blood of the Eagle flows in your veins. Fear not to shed it for the Clan, for you will drink the blood of our enemies to replenish you." Kadir intoned before he moved on to the next young man.

When the last of the eight were blooded, the Shaman stood back. He waved his arms high over his head. "Fly now. Fly as the Eagles you are! Swoop down upon your prey!"

The eight young men spun. They ran sunwise around the fire, circling it. They brandished their swords and spears as they danced the Eagle Dance, swooping and spinning in imitation of their totem. Nine times they circled the fire, sweating in its crackling heat.

Ragnar reached his father's position. Before any of the others could claim the pride of being first, he swooped around his father. Waving his sword and shield, Ragnar leapt high in front of his father and made the ritual cry "I am the son of an Eagle!" He landed on one foot and spun.

He sprinted towards the fire. Its heat scorched him as he planted his foot bare inches from the burning logs and leapt through the flames. Tongues of flame licked him as he flew over the fire. Landing on the other side, he tumbled, coming to his feet with his weapons in hand. The men of the clan hooted and applauded his flight.

Ragnar resumed his dance. One by one, the others followed Ragnar's lead. None disgraced themselves by tumbling into the fire, though Kagan burned his foot and Togran dropped his sword when he landed, a very bad omen for Togran.

The ritual complete, the eight young men sat by their fathers' sides. Their fathers cut strips from a haunch of venison and held it for their sons to take in their teeth. Ragnar chewed his meat and washed it down with a mouthful of kvas.

"A good flight, young Ragnar. Well danced. You will be a fine warrior for the Eagle." Old Angsar smiled, his scarred face bore witness to his many raids. Angsar's raiding years were long past; his left foot, crushed between a ship and rocks, had been amputated.

"I will loot the vámr and take their women." Ragnar waved his sword.

"Boast after the raid, not before it." Einar chided his son.

"Do not scorn the Val-de-mar-ans. Their warriors are brave." Old Angsar pronounced the name carefully.

"Vámr!" Ragnar insisted. "Their very name means vermin."

"We call them that, but that is not their name." Angsar shrugged. "We raid villages for loot and slaves. We do not attack their warriors."

"Who hide themselves behind their walls and only come out when we are gone!" Ragnar sneered.

"We do not wait for them to come out." Angsar pointed out. "And when we have met them, our ships often do not return."

"How can they be true warriors?" Ragnar demanded. "They are ruled by a woman!"

"Who slew her husband and a score of his henchmen with her own sword!" Angsar replied. "They must be a fearsome people to breed such women." _ ****[Author's note: We know this is not the way it happened, but such are 'traveller's tales.'**_ _ **]**_

Ragnar almost called the old man a coward, but caught himself. Angsar had proved himself on raids; Ragnar, an untried eyas, should show respect. "I will taste their blood!" Ragnar said instead.

Angsar smiled. "I am sure you will, young eagle. Just do not underestimate them. Especially, beware of their Spirit Riders."

Ragnar felt a chill down his spine. Tales of the Spirit Riders and their Spirit Horses were whispered, even at mid-day. It was said that, if the Spirit Horses looked you in the eye, they would steal your soul.

"Get on with you, old man!" Wulfden scorned from Angsar's other side. "The Spirit Riders and their Spirit Horses bleed and die like any other." Though Ragnar disliked Wulfden for his boastful arrogance, he nodded at the warrior's words. In his twenty second year, Wulfden was already a sub-captain.

Ragnar turned back to his father, who was talking of famous raids with his neighbor.

##

Ragnar's waited at his father's side, hidden in the bushes as the west face of the moon sank into the waters of the Great Lake. His heart pounded in his chest so strongly that Ragnar worried it might be heard amid the silence ordered by the captain.

He started slightly at the signal – three owl hoots, a pause, two more – and watched with the others as the turncoat in the village flashed his lantern in the same pattern. The captain repeated the signal and the turncoat responded again.

Ragnar moved silently forward with the band, treading surely so as not to make a sound and alert the village.

They neared the village. Ragnar could see the gap in the wall a darker shadow within the shadow.

The band paused twenty feet from the gate. "Hewkin, 'ave you done it?" The captain whispered hoarsely.

Ragnar felt contempt as the turncoat replied. "Yah, guard's dead. Come on." The foolish vámr believed that his treachery would earn him a place with the Clan. Such filth deserved a knife in his back.

Wordlessly, the men broke into a trot. They made no cry; the villagers would know nothing until the slaughter began.

The men at the front were barely a yard from the gate when a voice ahead cried "Now!" An instant later, a score of lanterns blazed in Ragnar's eyes. Ragnar did not see the arrows until they struck all around him. Togran screamed at his side as blood spurted around an arrow in his throat.

"Forward." The same voice said. Ragnar saw two men on huge horses charge toward the clansmen. The horses of the clansmen were mere ponies compared to the gigantic beasts. Beside the riders, footmen with swords and shields met the first line of the clan. Behind him, Ragnar could hear horns sounding.

The leaders did not flinch as the horsemen charged into their midst. Ragnar saw his father flattened by the massive animal as it struck the line. The rider slashed down with his sword across Wulfden's face. Wulfden screamed and lifted his hand to the wound before the rider chopped his neck. Wulfden gurgled blood and dropped to the ground.

A space opened briefly in front of Ragnar. In the light of the lanterns, Ragnar saw his father lift his hand to fend of the hooves of the horse. The gesture was futile: The hoof descended on Einar's face, smashing it in. Einar jerked and went still.

"It's a trap!" Borsan shouted. He turned to flee. An arrow took him in the back.

The Clan broke, trying to escape, only to meet a wall of Valdemaran troopers surrounding them.

"Throw down your weapons!" Someone shouted from the darkness beyond.

"To hell with you!" A clansman shouted, throwing a knife in the direction of the unseen voice. An arrow cut him down a moment later.

"Finish them!" Another man shouted. With a roar, the Valdemarans closed on the surrounded clansmen.

Ragnar and several others turned again to face the village. Ragnar would die fighting. He aimed himself at the rider. Einar would be avenged.

The huge animal reared to strike at Ragnar with the hooves that had killed his father. Ragnar ducked beneath them and drove his spear into the belly of the beast.

The animal reared higher and screamed – an unearthly sound like none Ragnar had ever heard. It toppled, still screaming, knocking Ragnar down as it fell. The huge animal's body landed over Ragnar's legs, pinning him to the ground.

As the battle raged around them, the beast thrashed and screamed, grinding Ragnar into the dirt. The men still standing fought over the spot where Ragnar lay, trampling him and kicking him in the head.

The sounds of fighting subsided until Ragnar could hear only the horse's cries of pain.

Around Ragnar, the clan lay dead. Away from the gate, more Valdemarans came into the light. In the center were a man and a woman – obviously captains of some sort – mounted on horses nearly as big as the animal that still struggled atop Ragnar.

"Well done, all of you." The woman said.

The rider of the wounded horse came towards Ragnar. He could not be many winters older than Ragnar himself. Ragnar was surprised to see tears streaming down the man's face.

The rider drew his dagger. He gently stroked the horse's neck, then thrust the dagger up under its chin. The horse jerked, then died, still lying across Ragnar's lower body. Ragnar moaned at the weight.

Lanterns shone in Ragnar's face. The Valdemarans looked down on him with hate in their eyes.

The rider turned towards Ragnar. He raised his dagger. "You killed my horse." He said in Valdemaran. Ragnar had learned the language from his mother, who had been taken by his father on a raid many years before.

"He killed my pa." Ragnar said in the same language. He braced himself for the death stroke.

The rider paused. He looked at Ragnar strangely. He lowered his dagger and sheathed it. "Take him and tie him up." The rider ordered. He turned away as his men rolled the horse's body up and dragged Ragnar from beneath it. Roughly, the men bound Ragnar and placed him with a dozen other clansmen who still lived.


	2. Chapter 2 - Spirit Horses

Chapter 2 – Spirit Horses

 _19 Hast thou given the horse strength? hast thou clothed his neck with thunder?_

 _20 Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper? the glory of his nostrils_ _is_ _terrible._

 _21 He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in_ _his_ _strength: he goeth on to meet the armed men._

 _22 He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted; neither turneth he back from the sword._

 _23 The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield._

 _24 He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage: neither believeth he that_ _it is_ _the sound of the trumpet._

 _25 He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha; and he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the shouting. – The Book of Job, Chapter 39, 19-25. (King James Version)_

Ragnar sat gloomily among his fellow captives while the Valdemarans put things in order around him.

The clansmen spoke softly so as not to attract the attention of the guards. Hagal said the Valdemarans would hang them. Hanging! Ragnar stared at the ground. Such a shameful death for an Eagle warrior. Ragnar wished he had died in the battle.

There was a snort in Ragnar's ear, making Ragnar jerk his head up. His jaw dropped as he saw the Spirit Horse. Even as fear gripped him, he admired the stunning beauty of the beast, blinding white in the light of the lanterns surrounding the prisoners. He felt terror as he stared into its blue eye. There was wisdom there and power that Ragnar could not ken. There was compassion as well; Ragnar felt he was being measured by an avatar of the gods. He should worship this creature.

The Spirit Horse snorted again, breaking the spell. Ragnar looked away.

"Are they making any trouble?" The Spirit Rider said.

"No, Herald Emeric. They've been meek as lambs since we chained 'em up." The leader of the guards said.

"No abuse, sergeant. See that they get water and food. Make a latrine pit for them as well." The Spirit Rider ordered.

"What's the use? We'll just hang 'em anyways?" The sergeant said.

"We're not savages." The Spirit Rider sounded angry. "Whether or not they hang is not for you to say. See that they are cared for."

"Yes, Herald." The sergeant sounded unhappy.

The Spirit Horse turned and left.

"We should just whack 'em on the head and be done with it." One of the guards said.

"Do that and yon Herald will hang you in their place." The sergeant growled.

The soldiers moved about, arranging things as the Spirit Rider ordered.

The sergeant told the prisoners what the Herald – as he called the Spirit Rider – had ordered. Ragnar translated for his clansmen. The guardsmen untied the prisoners' hands but left them chained at the ankle. In blunt words, the sergeant made it plain that he would be pleased if the clansmen made trouble. The sergeant would take great pleasure in punishing any troublemakers and described in graphic detail what he would do if any tried.

The clansmen listened impassively to Ragnar's translation. When the clansmen did not respond, the sergeant spat in contempt and turned his back.

The clansmen resumed their whispered conversation. "Ragnar! Are you alright?" Hagal asked. "Did it eat your soul?"

"What?" Ragnar looked at the man. "What do you mean?"

Hagal pointed where the Spirit Horse had gone. "The Spirit Horse. You looked in its eye! What did it do to you?"

Ragnar shook his head. "Nothing. I think. But it was strange. It is very wise and powerful."

"You've been wyrded!" Hagal drew back. "It placed a geas on you." Hagal made a sign against evil.

Ragnar shook his head again. "I don't think so. I am still myself. I feel whole. I don't think it can be evil."

Hagal looked at Ragnar, clearly unsure. "Beware!" He warned.

Ragnar shrugged. He should be afraid. He wondered why he was not.

##

Morning came. Ragnar had not slept. Now he watched as the Valdemarans took the bodies of the dead clansmen from the field. Ragnar fought back tears as he saw his father's body carted off. He would not let the Valdemarans – he could no longer call them vámr – see him weep. To Ragnar's horror, the Valdemarans cast the dead clansmen into a pit. Ragnar and the other prisoners muttered over the dishonor of being buried in dirt instead of sent to the winds on a pyre as befit a clan warrior.

The Valdemarans placed their own dead upon carts to bear them home. Ragnar saw the young rider limping beside one of the carts. A man dressed in green stopped him and ordered him to ride with the wounded. The young man refused. One of the captains came over and the two men addressed their arguments to him. The captain gave the young rider permission to walk with the cart bearing the body of his trooper. The man in green threw up his arms and walked away to the carts with the wounded.

By the gate, the villagers dug a huge grave for the horse Ragnar had killed. They buried the horse and covered the mound with stones. Ragnar almost cried out when they jammed his spear into the ground before the grave as a marker.

The Valdemarans gave the prisoners food and water. Though he had heard the Spirit Rider give the order to do so, Ragnar had doubted they would. They allowed the prisoners to use a latrine pit so the clansmen did not have to soil themselves while they waited. The biggest surprise was when another Spirit Rider ordered the guards to hang a tarp over the clansmen's heads to shade them from the midday sun.

Ragnar watched the Valdemarans move about. Surprise followed surprise. Some of the soldiers were women – the very idea of a woman warrior was perverse and unnatural in Ragnar's eyes. Yet the Valdemarans accepted the women warriors without question. Some of the women even gave orders to the men, shocking Ragnar to the core.

All the Valdemarans dressed alike. There were only tiny differences in their clothing. How could they know their best warriors without the tokens of their battles and coups?

The Spirit Horses went wherever they chose. No one tethered or picketed them or held a lead rope. Though they tended to stay with their riders, no one seemed bothered as they went about on their own. Then he recalled what he had seen in the blue eye and accepted that these were not like the beasts he had known.

The Valdemarans seemed to think them special as well. Ragnar saw a soldier bring grain to a Spirit Horse. Before the soldier put the bucket down, he asked the Spirit Horse where he wished it put. The Spirit Horse pointed his nose at a spot and the soldier placed the bucket there. Ragnar saw children from the village approach the Spirit Horse almost worshipfully, offering it treats and petting it.

Ragnar feared he and his fellow prisoners were being prepared for a sacrifice to the Valdemaran gods. Ragnar shuddered at the memory of the sunrise to sunset torture inflicted on a captive the clan had sacrificed years ago. As he remembered, he saw one of the Spirit Horses looking at him with its ears pinned. The beast shook its head. Whether the headshake was in denial or threat, Ragnar could not tell.

Night fell once more. Ragnar lay restlessly under the tarp. He could hear the Valdemaran warriors talking and singing around their fires. In the village, too, people sang and danced in joy at their victory. Exhausted and despairing, Ragnar drifted off to sleep.

##

After a morning meal of bread, cheese and water, the guards ordered the clansmen to stand. They ordered the clansmen to line up in pairs and chained them together. Ragnar's right wrist was chained to Hagal's left. Between the lines, a long chain ran back from a wagon, connecting the whole group. Two clansmen could not stand. The soldiers placed them on the wagon.

After chaining the clansmen's wrists, the Valdemarans undid the ankle chains. Saegal tried to attack the woman soldier undoing his ankle chain. With two blows, the woman soldier flattened Saegal, leaving the clansmen unconscious on the ground.

Another soldier came over and wakened Saegal, prodding him with his foot until the clansman got to his feet. His face a hand width from Saegal's, the soldier cursed him in the tongue of the Clans, telling Saegal that, if he tried again, the soldier would cut Saegal's balls off before feeding him to the fish in pieces.

The soldiers formed up and the wagon began moving, forcing Ragnar and the other clansmen to plod behind it. The column moved slowly, following the road southeast along the lakeshore. Travellers passed them; Ragnar could see the hate in their eyes and heard their curses. Some looked ready to throw things, but the soldiers forbade it.

They stopped briefly in the morning when the soldiers gave the captives water to drink. At midday, they stopped near a stream, where they gave the clansmen a simple meal and allowed them to relieve themselves. Two by two, they allowed the clansmen to bathe themselves in the stream – Ragnar noticed the spot was downstream from where the soldiers watered their horses – before setting off on the road again.

They paused again for more water in the afternoon and arrived at the soldier's fort late in the day. The main building was huge to Ragnar's eyes, but did not seem to have enough room for all of the soldiers, many of whom camped in tents around it.

The soldiers put the clansmen in an improvised stockade in the open space between the walls and the main building, chaining them to stakes anchored outside of the stockade. Guards stood around the stockade, ready to quell any attempt to escape.

Soldiers came by to gawk at the prisoners. A few of them pointed at Ragnar, mentioning that he had killed the horse. The rider himself came by at one point. Instead of the hate Ragnar expected, the look on the rider's face was one of curiosity. Ragnar noticed that some of the men looked at the rider fearfully; he overheard them say that the rider could read their thoughts. Ragnar shivered.

Night fell and the clansmen lay down to sleep. Through the poles of the stockade, Ragnar could see the Eye of the Eagle, the star which circled eternally overhead, watching and measuring the men below. As Ragnar drifted off to sleep he dreamed the eye stared at him, fixing him with its blue gaze and measuring him. The Eagle soared away to the southeast.

##

Ragnar stared around the huge room. He and the other clansmen were chained to benches at one side, surrounded by guards. Near them, another man dressed in Valdemaran clothes also sat in chains. At one end, five people sat at a table. Three of them – two men and a woman – were the Valdemaran captains, the other two were Spirit Riders dressed in white. There was a lower bench in the middle facing the five. There was another table where three soldiers were writing on papers while others spoke. Seated around the walls, soldiers and a few ordinary Valdemarans watched.

The Valdemarans questioned Captain Godric first. Soldiers carried Captain Godric, whose legs were broken, to the small bench facing the five and chained him there. The Valdemaran Captain in the middle nodded to one of the Spirit Riders. A moment later, a blue aura surrounded Captain Godric. Ragnar's eyes bulged at the sight; he heard other clansmen gasp and swear oaths. Several tried to make warding gestures. Ragnar shivered as he saw _eyes_ appear around Captain Godric and sink into his head.

The three Captains and the Spirit Riders asked Godric questions about his deeds and raids. Somehow, the stories did not sound as valorous as when Godric had boasted around the clan fires. The Valdemarans questioned Godric about all of his raids, demanding every detail of every man he slew and every slave he took. The men at the side table made many notes while Godric spoke.

When the Valdemarans questioned Godric about clan secrets, the clansmen took a sharp breath. Their gasps turned to quiet horror as Godric told how the clan found traitors to betray the villages. Worst of all, Godric told the Valdemarans how to find the Clan home and the secret signals that identified friend from foe. Godric wept as he revealed secrets he had vowed to die without telling. To reveal these things to an enemy was a crime beyond imagining: The perpetrator would be sown into a weighted sack with snakes and cast still breathing into the depths of the Great Lake, his women and daughters sold into slavery and his sons and all their families branded and cast out of the clans.

When the Valdemarans finished questioning Godric, the blue aura disappeared. The middle captain looked at the others and the Spirit Riders. All nodded. The middle captain said "Godric son of Ulfen, you are sentenced to death by hanging."

Godric hung his head and said nothing. His shame was complete. He had given away clan secrets. Not even hanging could add to his disgrace. The soldiers took him back to the benches holding the clansmen. Those nearest moved away.

The soldiers took Hagal next. Like Godric before him, they placed their geas on him and forced him to tell his deeds. They condemned Hagal to hang as well.

One by one, the Valdemarans questioned the clansmen and, one by one, condemned them to hang. Ragnar noticed that the stories the clansmen told the judges were not the same as what they had told around the clan fires. Saegal's tale of how he had slain a dozen men single-handed two summers ago became shameful when Saegal admitted that he had cut their throats from behind while they were bound hand and foot. The spectators murmured in satisfaction when the judges condemned Saegal.

Ragnar was the last clansman questioned.

Ragnar could not see the blue aura around himself. He wondered if it was there at all. When the Valdemarans began questioning him, Ragnar wanted to boast that he had slain a score of soldiers, but found he could not speak the lie. Instead, he told how he had become a warrior less than a half-moon before and that it had been his first raid. Instead of boasting how he had killed men, Ragnar admitted that he had only killed a horse, then been pinned beneath the dying beast and captured. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the horse's rider flinch.

"Why did you kill Ensign Poldara's horse?" The woman Captain asked.

"I was trying to kill the rider." Ragnar said.

"Why?"

"His horse killed my father." Ragnar said. He saw the rider flinch again.

The three captains glanced at the rider, then back at Ragnar. "We see." The middle Captain said.

Their questions finished, the judges looked at one another to decide Ragnar's fate. The rider stood up.

"What is it, Poldara?" The middle Captain looked irritated.

"I think this man should be spared, Sir." The rider said.

There was dead silence in the room. After a long pause, the captain said "Why?"

"Well, it was his first raid, Sir. He is not a hardened killer yet. He should be given a chance to become a decent man." All of the spectators stared at the rider in surprise.

"He was trying to kill you. He killed your horse in fact." The middle Captain's voice had an ironic tone.

"Yes, Sir. And my horse killed his father. Or rather, I killed his father with my horse. I think it is natural to want revenge, Sir." The rider looked his captain in the eye.

"Revenge is no excuse for piracy." The Captain continued in the same ironic tone.

"No it isn't, Sir. But a man who didn't want to avenge his father would be a poor human being. I think there may be a man worth saving here." He gestured at Ragnar, who looked at the rider as if he had grown two heads.

"We agree with Ensign Poldara." One of the Spirit Riders spoke up. "So do our Companions."

The three Captains looked at each other. "Very well." The middle Captain said. "Two years on the road gangs."

Road gangs! A slave! Ragnar looked down to hide his face. It was the crowning insult. Death was preferable to slavery, to being less than a man.

 _::Or perhaps you may become a better man than you might have been.::_ Ragnar looked up wondering who had spoken. The voice was feminine and carried a sense of great knowledge. But there were no women near him and no one else seemed to have heard the words. Ragnar thought of the Spirit Horse he had seen that first night after the battle.

The last man brought before the judges was the traitor from inside the village. Ragnar tried not to squirm as the man begged not to be executed. Truly vámr, Ragnar thought. The judges sentenced him to exile. The man wept as the guards took him away.

##

Ragnar tried not to show emotion as he watched his fellow clansmen hanged. As the Valdemarans took the captives away one by one, Ragnar met each man's gaze and said "Fly high!" Most returned his wish, though some were too nervous to speak. All but Saegal stood impassively as the hangman put the hoods over their heads and the noose around their necks. Saegal fought the Valdemarans to the last, but his neck broke like the others when the rope stopped his fall.

The executions done, many of the soldiers made ready to leave. Ragnar would leave with them. One of the leaders – he called himself a 'sergeant' – told Ragnar he would go to a place called Stag River tonight. From there, they would send him on to another place – called the Lakeshore Post – where he would be put into the road gangs. They would leave after the noon meal.

Ragnar looked around the compound. His eyes were drawn to the Spirit Horses. They and their Riders were there, talking with the soldiers. The soldiers seemed as fascinated by the Spirit Horses as Ragnar himself. The Captains were nowhere to be seen. Ragnar looked for 'Poldara' – he now knew the name of the rider whose horse he had killed – but could not see him either.

The sentry at the gate cried out "Companion coming!" The soldiers looked towards the gate and opened a path.

A new Spirit Horse cantered into the compound and stopped smoothly in front of the main building. It was riderless; it stood as though waiting for someone. It looked angry to Ragnar's eyes. Everyone fell silent.

"His Herald must be inside." Someone said.

One of the Spirit Riders whispered to a young sub-commander, who smiled and hurried inside the building. He came back after a few moments, followed by the three Captains.

'Poldara' followed behind the Captains, who parted to let him through. 'Poldara' walked towards the Spirit Horse as though in a trance. "Kantor?" He said. He looked into the Spirit Horse's eyes. As he stroked the beast's cheek, a look of joy spread over his face.

'Poldara' threw his arms around the Spirit Horse's neck and buried his face in its mane. The soldiers around the compound cheered loudly as the man embraced the Spirit Horse.

Still hugging the Spirit Horse, the man faced the Captains. "His name is Losanir, Sirs. He's Chosen me."

The soldiers cheered again. The Captains congratulated 'Poldara' and shook his hand. One pinned a tiny decoration to the man's shoulder. Other people bustled about, fetching things and attaching them to the Spirit Horse's saddle.

'Poldara' saluted his Captain once more, then swung up on the back of the Spirit Horse. The Spirit Horse turned neatly on its hindquarters and galloped out of the gate. The soldiers cheered as 'Poldara' and the Spirit Horse rode away.


	3. Chapter 3 - A Strange Land

Chapter 3 – A Strange Land

" _And he will be a wild man; his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him" – King James Bible, Genesis 16:12_

After their noon meal, about two thirds of the Valdemaran soldiers prepared to leave the fort. Ragnar would go with them. Though they had offered Ragnar bread and cheese, he had not eaten. Ragnar had no appetite: Alone among strangers, he was a captive. His father and all of his mates were dead, either defeated in the failed raid or disgracefully hanged. Ragnar's fate was worst of all: He was condemned as a slave – a fate without honor. Ragnar wished only to die.

"Lekaron says to tell you that you are not a slave. You are being given a chance to show you are a man and repay the injuries you have done." Ragnar looked up. It was one of the Spirit Riders. His Spirit Horse stood beside him.

"Who is Lekaron?" Ragnar asked.

The rider gestured at the Spirit Horse. "This is Lekaron. He is my Companion." Ragnar glanced at the Spirit Horse. Ragnar had the odd impression that the Spirit Horse looked worried.

"Lekaron says he is worried. About you. You are in despair; he wants you to have hope. There is another path for you. Do not give up."

Ragnar stared at the Spirit Horse. Why would it care about him?

"Because you are a young man who has a great deal of potential." The rider said. "You can be much better than a thief and a killer."

The accusation stung Ragnar. "I am not a thief and killer!" He retorted.

The rider raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What would you call the raids on our villages? Moon festivals? Potlach? Tornerings?" The rider used the Clan words for the celebrations of his people where gifts were exchanged and warriors dueled for Clan rank.

"You are Vámr! Cattle to be milked! Fit only to be slaves!" Ragnar tried to defend his people.

"And we call you vermin in turn. So we are equal in insults. But we do not kill the helpless." The rider's face showed his contempt.

"We fight for the honor of the Clan!" Ragnar protested.

The rider snorted. "Honor? Is that what you call it? Did you not hear your clansman Saegal tell how he slit the throats of bound prisoners from behind? Where was the honor in that?"

"They threw down their arms." Ragnar said. "They proved themselves Vámr unfit to live."

"You don't believe that." The rider said. "I saw your face when he confessed before the tribunal. You looked away in shame. You are a better man than Saegal."

Ragnar flushed. How had they noticed? He thought he had hidden his expression.

"Lekaron and Liezel told us to watch you." The rider answered Ragnar's unspoken question. "They believe in you."

The thought that the Spirit Horses had singled him out frightened Ragnar. Had they stolen his soul after all?

The Spirit Horse snorted loudly. His rider snickered a moment later. "Lekaron says your soul remains your own. And he prefers to be called by his name. Call him Lekaron. He would like to be your friend."

Ragnar looked up at the Spirit Horse with a touch of wonder. This creature cared about him. Despite his horse-shape and the way that the Spirit Rider behaved so casually, there was something not of this world about Lekaron. "I am honored to be your friend, Lekaron." Ragnar stretched out a hand; Lekaron touched his nose to Ragnar's palm. Ragnar shivered.

"Lekaron says he is happy to have you as a friend. There will be hardships for you, but you will endure. Fly high, young eagle." Hearing the traditional phrase on the spirit rider's lips shook Ragnar. The rider smiled at Ragnar's expression before he and the Spirit Horse nodded and walked away. Ragnar watched them go, wondering what the Spirit Horse saw in him.

##

"I don't know why Kensie asked me to keep an eye on you, but he did. For some reason, he thinks you are worth the effort." The Valdemaran walked his horse beside Ragnar.

Ragnar looked up at the man curiously. His horse was grey, not white. It did not have the presence – or the blue eyes – of the Spirit Horses and the rider's uniform was blue, not white. Not a Spirit Rider, Ragnar concluded. From the fact that the man rode rather than walked with the men, Ragnar guessed he was a sub-captain of some sort.

His glance at the man diverted Ragnar's attention for a moment. Ragnar missed a slight swerve of the wagon. The chain attaching him to the back of the wagon jerked his arm; Ragnar staggered slightly to catch his balance.

"Watch out." The rider said. "I didn't mean to distract you."

Ragnar wondered why the man cared.

When Ragnar said nothing, the young man went on. "I am Urson Tewkes-Felthan, by the way. I owe Kensie for Gamin, here." He stroked the horse's neck. "So, I'll try to keep you out of trouble."

 _Urson?_ Ragnar thought. The young man did not look bear-like at all. Ragnar wondered what a 'Tewkes-Felthan' was. If only to pass the time, Ragnar decided he would talk. "I am Ragnar called." He said.

"Only one name? Do you not have family names?" The rider asked.

"I am the son of Einar." Ragnar answered. "Of the Eagle Clan. Of the People of the Lake." Ragnar glanced to his right. Between the trees, he could see the Great Water. The road skirted the lake, occasionally coming close enough that Ragnar could glimpse it. He sighed.

Urson followed his gaze. "You miss your people." He guessed.

Ragnar looked back at him. "I will never see my people again."

Urson looked at him curiously. "Why not? After your time on the road gangs, you can go back if you want."

Ragnar shook his head. "I am dishonored. They would not see me. It is better if they think I am dead."

"Because you were taken prisoner?" Urson asked shrewdly.

Ragnar nodded. "To die at the hand of an enemy is honorable. To be a slave is _salach._ " Ragnar used the Clan word. Nothing in Valdemaran could express how contemptibly unclean Ragnar's people would think him.

"We do not think of work on the road gangs as slavery." Urson said. "But I can see how your people might think it so."

The two continued their conversation through the afternoon. Urson drew the young clansman out. Urson's superiors did not interfere: Urson was learning more about the culture of the Lake Clans than Valdemarans had ever known.

The most awkward moment was when Ragnar mentioned that his mother was a raid-prize from Valdemar. Urson's face showed his contempt. "So you think women are property?" He said.

Perplexed by Urson's disdain, Ragnar said. "Of course women belong to men. That is the way of things."

"Haven't you noticed that some of the soldiers around you are women?" Urson asked.

Ragnar glanced around. He could see at least four women marching among the guardsmen. They stared back at Ragnar, their faces tight; clearly they had heard his words. He remembered the female soldier who had flattened Saegal a few days before. Ragnar flushed and turned back to Urson.

"At least we know how you learned Valdemaran." Urson said.

Grateful for the opportunity to divert the discussion, Ragnar explained how his mother had taught him Valdemaran. Shaman Kadir had encouraged Ragnar learning the language, convincing his father and the other captains it would be a useful skill.

However, Kadir had drawn the line at allowing Ragnar to learn to read and write and forbidden Lisle to teach it to her son. Ragnar admitted to Urson that his mother had contrived to skirt the Shaman's prohibition by allowing Ragnar to 'accidentally' see bits of written Valdemaran and telling her son what the markings meant. "I can read a little." He admitted.

In the evening, they reached another guard post. Ragnar slept that night in a cell in the post. For the third night in a row, he dreamed that the Eagle looked down on him before soaring away to the southeast.

##

Lieutenant Wellin Rath aimed his green eyes at the latest addition to his road gang. His weathered face twisted with contempt. "A pirate? Why didn't you just hang him?"

Ensign Urson Tewkes-Felthan shrugged. "Kensie Poldara thought he was worth saving. He spoke up at the trial and recommended mercy."

Urson had escorted Ragnar to Watford prison, which was the base of the road gangs in the area. Urson had taken the duty to go with his leave. Count Tewkes had put in a request that his son-in-law be allowed leave so that Urson might beget another child as a 'spare' to young Dwight. Watford was only a day's ride from Tewkesbury, so escorting Ragnar was no burden to Urson.

Lieutenant Rath snorted. "I hardly consider a coward's recommendation a ringing endorsement."

"Ensign Poldara was promoted to lieutenant for his actions at Rushton. He led the interior defense of the village." Urson defended his friend. With a grin, he added. "That was just three days before he was Chosen by a Companion. He's off to Herald's Collegium now.

"Also, the other two Heralds endorsed his recommendation."

Lieutenant Rath scowled at the mention of Heralds and Companions. He remembered Herald Randen all too well. If it hadn't been for the meddling Herald and that damned Healer Kyminn Danner, Rath might have been commander of a regiment of horse by now.

He studied the prisoner. By his face, the pirate was very young. The pirate was tall and well-muscled. _'At least he'll be able to swing a shovel and carry weight. Even if he is as stupid as he looks.'_ The lieutenant thought.

"What is your name, pirate?" Rath demanded.

Urson had warned him to expect hostility and not to rise to it. "Ragnar." Was all he said.

"I want your full, name, boy." Rath snapped.

"They don't use surnames, sir." Urson said.

"Oh?" Rath snorted. "I suppose their women sleep with any man, so they don't know their fathers."

Ragnar stiffened at the insult. Before he could speak, Urson gave him a warning glance. "His father's name was Einar, sir."

"Very well," Rath said. "We'll call him Ragnar Einarson." He wrote that down on his register. Ragnar shrugged. It was a good naming.

Rath pointed at the scar on Ragnar's forehead; it was not quite healed. "What's that? You got wounded in the fight."

"It is my blooding-scar. When I was made a warrior." Ragnar said.

"Barbaric ritual." Rath commented. "You're a nasty thing. It suits you." He leered. "Of course, you're a bit on the pretty side. The others on the gang will appreciate something fresh." Lieutenant Rath knew what often happened to young, attractive prisoners at night in the cells. It was officially discouraged, of course, but Rath didn't care. They were all beasts in his eyes.

Rath signed the receipt for the prisoner and handed it to Urson.

The Ensign's stomach twisted as he saluted. He'd come to like Ragnar as he escorted him to his work gang. As he passed Ragnar on the way out, he smiled at him. "Fly high, young Eagle." He said in the language of the clans.

"What did you say?" Rath demanded.

"It is a traditional farewell among his people." Urson said.

"Tchach." Rath spat. "Don't lower yourself to such scum. Get out of here."

Urson saluted once more and left.

"Wells! Come in here." The corporal appeared at the door.

"Take this scum to the cells. He'll join the gang tomorrow."

"This way." Corporal Wells ordered. He walked behind Ragnar, directing him to the cell."

##

Ragnar eyed the other prisoners warily. The five other men who shared his cell were filthy and squalid. For all that the guards hosed them down every second day and made the prisoners lather themselves with soap before rinsing, nothing made his cellmates look one whit cleaner. Supposedly, they had bathed, but they still looked diseased and verminous in Ragnar's eyes. Sharing a cell and a table with them made his skin crawl, especially when they leered at him suggestively.

Soap was just one of the new experiences for Ragnar. He had sniffed the bar curiously the first time the guard handed it to him. It had smelled vaguely of tallow and lye. The guard impatiently ordered Ragnar to rub it over his body as he bathed. Ragnar stared in amazement at the lather that foamed over his skin. He enjoyed the sensation; the lather lifted the dirt from his skin far better than the oil and heat of the sweat lodge. He got some in his eye and stifled a cry of pain at the stinging. His eye had wept until he finally slept that night. Afterwards, Ragnar washed his face with more care.

The washing did not ease his aches and pains as the sweat lodge had. Ragnar was stiff from long hours swinging a shovel and carrying loads of fill. He was fit, bigger and stronger than most of the others on the gang, even though the others were years older than he. But carting and digging were not the same as rowing a longship or fighting; the unaccustomed labors left his body aching. Fortunately, his hands were already calloused from long days rowing the oars: Ragnar had no blisters.

The bland, heavy food had very little meat. Ragnar liked the bread, which was much softer than the tough flatbread he had known before; butter was a novel pleasure. What little meat there was came in unappetizing stews that only ravening hunger brought on by hard labor could force Ragnar to eat. At least the water was clean.

The hard beds did not bother Ragnar. He had slept many nights on the ground, often without even a bed of grasses. The blankets were clean and free of vermin. No fleas or bedbugs disturbed his sleep. As the newest prisoner, Ragnar got the 'misery' pallet near the slop pail. It took him three nights to ignore the stench.

What disturbed Ragnar most was the way the other prisoners leered at him and made suggestive remarks. Wat and Cody in particular would catch his eye and rub their groins as they looked him up and down. Occasionally, they would contrive to touch him on his groin or buttock. They would laugh as Ragnar flinched away.

"I seen you at night. You got the longing jus' like any of us. You're a toothsome bit." Cody said, miming the motions of sex.

"Shut up, Cody. You're a filthy bugger." Private Zaitlin said. Brad Zaitlin was only a little older than Ragnar. Curious, he had questioned Ragnar about the clans and become friendly. Lieutenant Rath had scolded Zaitlin twice for 'fraternizing.'

Cody leered back at the private. "You want some, private? You're a pretty boy, too." Facing Zaitlin, Cody mimed the motions once more.

"You're disgusting." Private Zaitlin said.

"Why don't you just go off for a cup of kava, private, so's we can have some fun with the boy?" Cody grinned back.

"Have to keep an eye on you." Zaitlin said. The rules required that there always be at least one guard walking the rows of cells, watching the prisoners.

Cody's words more than disgusted Ragnar. Such was absolutely forbidden among the clans. Sex between men was _gomgorru_ – unspoken of and forbidden. Any clansman performing such an act would be killed or, at the very least, driven out of clan territory.

Ragnar had not proven himself in a raid prior to his capture. As such, he had not yet been permitted to know a woman. But, like all young men, he had felt the urgings of sex and had erotic dreams. Since he had come to the gangs, he had twice wakened to see Cody leering down at him while he dreamt.

Only his warrior training had protected Ragnar. Instantly, he came fully awake, prepared to fight. Ragnar was larger and better conditioned than Cody; the latter had backed away as soon as he had seen Ragnar ready to resist. The guards were inured to the realities of prison life and turned a blind eye to sex between the men. Rapes and fights were another matter and the guards dealt harshly with any offender.

##

It was the Dark of the Moon. Was it only one moon-turn since Ragnar danced the fire? He sighed. Through the bars of the cell window, he could see stars, but not the Eagle's Eye. Could the Eagle see him? Ragnar still dreamed that the Eagle watched him, even through the stone walls.

Tomorrow was a Rest Day, as the Valdemarans called it. Ragnar hated the thought that he would be confined to the cell for the day. The work on the roads was hard, but at least he was in the open air feeling the sun on his back and the breeze on his face. In here, the air stank. Ragnar would prefer swinging a shovel to lying among the other prisoners.

Ragnar lay back on his pallet. Eventually, he slept.

Trained to rouse fully at the slightest threat, Ragnar woke an instant before Cody and Wat landed on him. He tensed and sprang before they could pin him. He drove his knee into Wat's groin, making the man scream in pain. Ragnar wrapped his arms around Cody's head and twisted.

Cody made a sound between a choke and a cough. He went limp and slid to the floor. Rik punched Ragnar in the face. Ragnar blocked a second punch and hit back, catching Rik on the nose. Rik staggered back as Ragnar rolled up to a sitting position.

A furious Wat had now recovered enough to launch himself at Ragnar. Ragnar grabbed Wat's arm and the collar of his shirt. He swung Wat around, smashing him against the wall. Wat's skull hit the stone with a crunch. Wat's eyes bulged; his body spasmed before he collapsed beside Cody.

Ragnar rolled to his feet, advancing on Rik, who screamed and ran to the far wall. Jas and Peak cringed on their pallets, rolling themselves into balls.

"Ragnar! What the hell are you doing?" Private Forest shouted as he ran out of the wardroom. Private Mumme followed him.

"He killed Cody and Wat!" Rik screamed.

Ragnar stopped and looked at the guards. "They attacked me." He said.

"Stand against the wall." Private Forest ordered. All of the prisoners obeyed. Forest removed his sword and dagger, handing them to Private Mumme before he unlocked the cell. Two more guards moved up beside Private Mumme.

Cautiously, with his eye on Ragnar the whole time, Private Forest moved to where Cody and Wat lay. He checked the bodies quickly. "They're dead." He reported.

One at a time, Private Forest dragged the bodies out of the cell. The guards ordered Ragnar out of the cell, placing manacles on his hands and feet.

Just as Private Mumme relocked the cell, Lieutenant Rath entered the corridor, his uniform showing signs of having been pulled on quickly.

He glanced at the bodies, then at Ragnar. "They should have hanged you right away." He said. He grinned maliciously. "Looks like we get to finish the job.

"Take him to the isolation cell."

 _ **[Author's note: Lieutenant Rath, who some of you may remember from Raelynn Daria Mayne's story "Kyminn's Journey," appears with her permission. In the nearly ten years since then,**_ _ **Rath served strictly in the supply and logistics branch. After the fiasco with Kyminn, he was never assigned a field command and never saw any combat, mainly because of the stain on his record. He has managed to get promoted back to full lieutenant, but that is only because of a vacancy created by the demand for officers in the war. He was passed over for every promotion and saw many younger men rise from ensign to higher ranks, including some promoted to command over him.**_

 _ **He appears with**_ _ **Raelynn Daria Mayne's permission.**_ _ **]**_


	4. Chapter 4 - In Enemy Hands

Chapter 4 – In Enemy Hands

" _Perjury is the basest and meanest and most cowardly of crimes. What can it do? Perjury can change the common air that we breathe into the axe of an executioner." - Robert Green Ingersoll_ _  
_

"…ravage our villages, rape and enslave…" The gavel banged, interrupting Lieutenant Rath.

"The Lieutenant will confine his statements to the issue at hand." Major Chase waved the stump of her left arm at Rath. "Please address your question to the witness."

Major Chase fascinated Ragnar. Though she was only shoulder height to Ragnar, she carried herself with confidence. The patch over her left eye and her missing lower left arm showed she had been in combat; her decorations meant nothing to Ragnar, but the other officers accorded her profound respect. Obviously, she was an effective commander.

Only Lieutenant Rath seemed immune to her authority. His posture and expression conveyed his resentment of her position as his superior.

Rath paused. "Private Forest, you saw this man" – he gestured at Ragnar – "attack Cody Wruck and break his neck?"

Nial Forest nodded. "Yes, sir. He just pounced on Cody, grabbed his head and snapped his neck like a chicken's."

Ragnar stiffened in outrage, ready to call the lie. Urson Tewkes-Felthan put his hand on Ragnar's arm to keep him silent. Ragnar flushed angrily, but subsided.

Urson made a note on his papers before looking back to listen to Nial Forest's testimony. Major Chase had recalled Urson to duty to serve as Ragnar's advocate: Urson was the only officer who was at all friendly to the young clansman and, because he was on leave from his a different post, immune to the pressures of those in her command who outranked him.

Rath continued questioning Private Forest, who testified how Ragnar, after killing Cody Wruck had stalked and killed Wat Dahlberg by smashing him against the stone wall and cracking his skull. Private Forest said that Ragnar had been stalking Rik Levitt before the guards finally succeeded in controlling Ragnar.

Lieutenant Rath finished his questions. Urson faced Private Forest.

"Private Forest. You said you saw Ragnar Einarson kill both men?" Urson asked.

"Yes, Sir."

"Where, exactly, were you when you saw this?" Urson asked.

"In the cells." Forest answered.

"I assume you mean in the cell corridor, not in an actual cell?" Urson said.

Forest sneered. "Yes, Sir. I was in the cell corridor."

"How close were you to the cell holding Ragnar Einarson, Cody Wruck and Wat Dahlberg?"

"I was about thirty feet away." Forest said.

Urson raised an eyebrow. "The whole time?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You saw the entire attack from beginning to end?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And Ragnar Einarson was stalking Rik Levitt when you stopped him?" Urson asked.

"Yes, Sir."

"Private Forest, how did you stop him?" Urson asked.

"I ordered him to stop, Sir." The private sneered once more.

"Did he obey?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Why didn't you order him to stop before he killed Cody Wruck?" Urson asked.

"I didn't notice until too late, Sir." The private licked his lips.

"I thought you said you saw the whole attack, private." Urson said.

Private Forest flushed. "Well, I meant I just saw him grab Cody around the neck and kill him, Sir."

"I see. Did you order Ragnar Einarson to stop then?" Urson said.

"Uh, no, Sir."

"Why not?" Urson said.

"I was too surprised, Sir." Forest said.

"So you did nothing while Ragnar Einarson seized and killed Wat Dahlberg?"

Forest flushed once more. "No, Sir."

"What did you do, then?"

Private Forest flicked his eyes at Lieutenant Rath. "I ordered him to stop, Sir."

"Did he stop?" Urson asked.

"No, Sir. He killed Wat."

"Why did you say that you were too surprised to order him to stop?"

Private Forest looked down for a moment. "Sorry, Sir, I was confused."

"So, Ragnar Einarson disobeyed your first order to stop, but obeyed the second order to stop?"

Forest looked at Lieutenant Rath again. "Yes, Sir. That is correct."

"Where was Cody Wruck when Ragnar Einarson attacked him?"

"He was asleep, Sir. On his pallet."

"His pallet was on the other side of the cell?" Urson asked.

"Yes, Sir."

"Was Wat Dahlberg also asleep when Ragnar Einarson attacked him?" Urson asked.

Private Forest nodded. "Yes, Sir."

Urson looked surprised. "He didn't wake up when Ragnar Einarson attacked Cody Wruck or when you gave the order to stop?"

Forest nodded. "Well, he kind of woke up, Sir."

"But he was still on his pallet?"

The private nodded again. "That is correct, Sir."

"So, Wat Dahlberg was also on his pallet when Ragnar Einarson attacked him?"

"Yes, Sir." Forest agreed. "That is where he was."

"Did Wat Dahlberg attempt to fight off Ragnar Einarson?" Urson asked.

Forest nodded. "He did, Sir. But he was too strong."

"Ragnar Einarson was too strong for Wat Dahlberg to resist?"

"That is correct, Sir."

Urson picked up a report and held it up. "The initial report says that the bodies of Cody Wruck and Wat Dahlberg were lying beside Ragnar Einarson's pallet before you pulled them from the cell. Is that correct?"

"Yes, Sir." Private Forest said.

"How did they get there?" Urson asked.

"That's where he put them, Sir." Forest said.

"Their pallets were on the other side of the cell. Are you saying that he dragged their bodies to his pallet?" Urson asked.

"Yes, Sir."

"Were they alive or dead when Ragnar Einarson dragged them to his pallet?"

"They were dead, Sir."

Urson picked up another report. "The Healer's Death Report says that Wat Dahlberg died from having his skull smashed. It says the breaks in the skull matched the shape of the stones above Ragnar Einarson's pallet. There was blood matching Wat Dahlberg's on that spot. If Wat Dahlberg was already dead, how did Ragnar Einarson kill him?"

Forest glanced at Lieutenant Rath once more. He licked his lips. "I meant that Cody was dead, Sir. Wat was alive when the pirate grabbed him."

"Did Wat Dahlberg try to fight off Ragnar Einarson?" Urson asked.

"Yes, Sir. But who can fight an animal like that?" Forest looked at Ragnar in contempt.

Major Chase rapped her gavel. "Please refrain from opinions in your testimony, Private Forest."

"Private Nial Forrest," Urson said, "have you had training in controlling prison fights?"

The private looked surprised at the change in questioning. "Yes, Sir. I have."

"Have you personally acted to stop a fight in the cells?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Private Forest, describe the procedures for breaking up fights."

"Yes, Sir. First, we are supposed to order the prisoners to stop." Forest began.

Urson interrupted. "I call the court's attention to the fact that Private Forest has said that he twice ordered Ragnar Einarson to stop. Further, he has also stated that Ragnar Einarson disobeyed the first order and obeyed the second order. Go on, Private."

"Yes, Sir. Next we are supposed to try to distract them by dousing them with water."

"And if they continue to fight?" Urson asked.

Private Forest went on. "Then we are supposed to use the push-poles to separate them and unbalance them, Sir."

"Do you ever actually enter the cells to subdue the fighters?" Urson asked.

Forest shook his head. "Not until we have overwhelming force, Sir."

"Thank you, Private." Urson said. "It must have taken a little time for Ragnar Einarson to drag Cody Wruck and Wat Dahlberg from their pallets to his. Did you douse Ragnar Einarson with water during that time?"

Private Forest froze a moment. "No, Sir. I did not."

"Did you use the push-poles in an attempt to separate them or knock Ragnar Einarson down?"

The private looked at Lieutenant Rath again. "No, Sir. I did not."

"Why didn't you, Private?"

"I was too surprised, Sir." Private Forest said.

Now Urson looked at Lieutenant Rath. "It appears that some additional training is required for your staff, Lieutenant."

Rath looked daggers at Urson.

Urson turned back to Private Forest. "Do you have any idea why Ragnar Einarson would attack Cody Wruck and Wat Dahlberg?"

"Objection!" Lieutenant Rath interrupted. "That is a matter of opinion."

Major Chase rapped her gavel. "Agreed."

Urson nodded to the Major, then turned back to Private Forest. "Before the night of their deaths, did Cody Wruck or Wat Dahlberg make any gestures or sexual innuendos towards Ragnar Einarson?"

Lieutenant Rath objected again.

"I think the nature of such gestures or innuendos can be fairly determined." Major Chase said. "The question is allowed."

Urson looked back at the Private, who flushed. "Yes, Sir."

"Did the gestures indicate a desire to perform a sexual act with Ragnar Einarson?"

Private Forest blushed furiously. "Yes, Sir, they did."

Urson faced the tribunal. "For the record, I will stipulate that sex between men is strictly taboo among the Lake Clans. It is absolutely unclean and considered disgusting beyond words. It lies in the realm of what they call gomgorru – filthy and unholy – and can result in killing or banishment for all involved, willing or not.

"Note that this may be seen as either a motive for Ragnar Einarson to attack Cody Wruck and Wat Dahlberg or why Ragnar Einarson fought so desperately to defend himself from rape, which what he maintains he was doing when Cody Wruck, Wat Dahlberg and Rik Levitt attacked him."

Urson turned back to the private. "Private Nial Forest, I must ask you one more time. You had the corridor duty at the time of the alleged attack. I must ask you directly: Were you in the corridor at the time of the attack?"

Forest looked directly back at him. "I was, Sir."

"You did not leave the corridor before the attack began?"

Forest looked resentful. "I did not, Sir."

"Why not?"

"It is against orders, Sir. There must always be at least one guard in the corridor at all times."

"That is correct, Private." Urson said dryly. "So you were not in the wardroom having kava at the time?"

Forest looked angry. "Of course not, Sir."

Urson nodded. "That is all, Private."

Major Chase dismissed Private Forest.

Lieutenant Rath summoned more witnesses, both guardsmen and prisoners. All told the same story: That Ragnar had stalked and killed Cody and Wat.

The first day of the trial drew to a close. Urson turned to Ragnar. "This does not look good. They are all telling the same story. None of them support your version."

"They are lying!" Ragnar spoke loudly enough for heads to turn all over the courtroom.

Urson sighed. "Young Eagle, I believe you. I think you are telling the truth. I can think of reasons that so many might speak against you, but the worst of them is that your clan did raid our coasts. For who you are, they have judged you and refuse to believe you."

"We are not liars." Ragnar protested.

"But you are raiders." Urson said. He sighed again. "I believe you. I think you did not do this. Either that, or you are the best liar I have ever known." He smiled to take the sting out of the words.

"I am not a liar." Ragnar insisted as the guards approached to take him back to the cells. At the same time, a woman holding the hand of a young boy came up beside Urson. Ragnar's eyes widened as he saw her.

"A moment, please." Urson said to the guards.

Urson indicated the woman and the boy. "Ragnar of the Eagle Clan, I would like to introduce you to my wife, Meria Tewkes. And this is my son, Dwight." Meria Tewkes had heard about Ragnar from her husband. Curious, she had travelled from Tewkesbury with her husband when Major Chase had requested that Urson take on the defense.

Ragnar hesitated a moment. In the clans, women were ignored. Men did not introduce their women. He recovered himself. "I greet you, wife of Urson." He managed.

Meria bit her lip to keep from laughing. "I greet you, Ragnar of the Eagle Clan. My husband speaks well of you."

Ragnar flushed, uncertain of what to say. This woman was bold; she carried herself like a warrior. She both attracted him and intimidated him. He stared at her for a moment, then burst out "Urson says you are a warrior. I have never met a woman warrior before."

Now Meria did laugh. "There are many women warriors in Valdemar."

Before Ragnar could respond, the boy piped up. "Are you a pirate?"

Everyone in earshot laughed, including Ragnar. Urson rolled his eyes. Ragnar knelt down to the boys' level. Urson waved back the guards before they could grab Ragnar.

"I am an Eagle Clansman." Ragnar said. "We are fierce pirates."

"Papa can beat you." Dwight said. It was Meria's turn to roll her eyes.

Ragnar smiled. "I am sure he can, son of Urson. You will be a brave warrior like your father."

"I will beat you." Dwight said.

Ragnar bit his lip. "I will run away before you can catch me. Grow tall and strong like your father." He patted the boy on the shoulder.

"Excuse us, Ensign, but we have to take him back to his cell." One of the guards said.

"Very well." Urson said. He offered his hand to Ragnar, surprising him. Ragnar had not expected it. He shook Urson's hand. "I will see you tomorrow, Young Eagle." Urson said.

Urson and Meria watched the guards take Ragnar away.

"I think he is telling the truth." Meria said.

"I agree." Urson replied. "I think the guards screwed up and they are trying to cover themselves."

"And the prisoners?" Meria said.

"They probably hate him because he is a Clansman…." Urson began.

"You mean a pirate." Meria said.

"It's the same thing in their eyes." Urson said. "Either that, or they are afraid of what the guards will do to them if they tell a different story."

Meria nodded. She had observed many sessions in her father's court. She well knew how fear, prejudice and a desire to hide mistakes could pervert justice. One thing still bothered her. "Why is this trial in a military court?" She asked Urson. "I thought only guardsmen were tried in military courts."

"Ragnar is an enemy prisoner. He was sent here by a military tribunal." Urson said. "If a herald, a noble or a local magistrate had convicted him and sentenced him to the road gangs, he would have to be tried in a civilian court."

##

Alone in the isolation cell, Ragnar stared at the ceiling. Urson Tewkes-Felthan had told him that the evidence was not in his favor. It was Ragnar's word against the word of many others.

Ragnar got up. Slowly, he stretched his muscles. Aboard the longships, there was no room to spar, so the clan had taught its men how to build strength without rocking the boat. In the confines of the cell, it was all Ragnar could do to relieve the tension of the trial.

After nightfall, Ragnar looked out through the bars on the window. He could see the Eagle's Eye from this cell. Ragnar prayed to the Eagle for courage. Still staring at the Eagle's Eye, Ragnar drifted off to sleep.

Tonight, he dreamed the Eagle did not soar off south and east. Instead, it spiralled slowly down. As it landed, it took the shape of a Spirit Horse.

##

The next morning, Lieutenant Rath called the last of his witnesses. It was now Urson's turn.

The only witness in Ragnar's favor was Private Zaitlin. Zaitlin testified he had seen Cody Wruck approach Ragnar's bed on three occasions while Ragnar was sleeping. Each time, Cody had backed off when Ragnar woke. Private Zaitlin also testified that Cody had expressed a wish that Zaitlin leave the cell corridor in order that Cody could assault Ragnar.

When Urson finished, Lieutenant Rath looked contemptuously at Zaitlin. "Private Zaitlin, were you in the cell area at any time on the night Cody Wruck and Wat Dahlberg were murdered?"

"No, Sir."

"Were you on duty at the time?"

"No, Sir."

"Where were you at the time?"

"I was in my bunk in the barracks, Sir."

"Were you sleeping?"

"Yes, Sir."

Lieutenant Rath smiled contemptuously. "Private Zaitlin, how long have you been in the guard?"

"Four moons, sir."

"Thank you, private. I think you require further training."

Before Urson could object, Major Chase banged her gavel. "Lieutenant, that is perilously close to intimidation. Do you have any further questions?"

Lieutenant Rath paused deliberately. "I have no further questions, Sir."

Major Chase dismissed Private Zaitlin.

Urson put Ragnar on the witness stand. With careful questioning, Urson had Ragnar tell his version of the events, emphasizing that Ragnar had only reacted to Cody and Wat's attack.

"Did you attack Cody Wruck in his sleep?"

"No, I was asleep when he attacked me."

"Did Cody attack you alone?"

"No. There were more."

"Who else attacked you?" Urson asked.

"The other one." Ragnar said.

"You mean Wat?"

"Yes." Ragnar said.

"Was there anyone else?"

Ragnar pointed to Rik. "Him."

Urson went through the fight. Ragnar's tried to tell what happened as best he could, though he admitted to confusion about the exact details.

Urson faced the tribunal. "I draw the Court's attention to the fact that the Healer's report says that Rik Levitt's nose was broken and bleeding. In his testimony, Rik Levitt said he did not attack Ragnar Einarson and ran away from him."

Lieutenant Rath took over the questioning.

He sneered at Ragnar. "Did you have sex with Cody Wruck or Wat Dahlberg?"

Ragnar leapt to his feet. "NO!" He shouted. "I am not filth!"

Major Chase banged her gavel. Guards rushed forward to restrain Ragnar. Urson caught his eye and motioned him to sit down. Ragnar sat, glaring hatred at Lieutenant Rath.

Lieutenant Rath smiled. "I see. What would you do to someone who tried to have sex with you?"

Still breathing rapidly, Ragnar glared at Rath. "I would kill them."

"Did Cody Wruck and Wat Dahlberg try to have sex with you?"

"They were trying to use me." Ragnar spat.

"So you killed them." Rath said.

"Yes."

Rath faced the Court. "That is all."

The Court recessed for luncheon and resumed a candlemark after noon.

Both sides presented their summary arguments. Lieutenant Rath repeated the version given by his witnesses, emphasizing how they all agreed. He dwelt at length on Ragnar's ferocity and strength. Major Chase interrupted him twice when Rath described the pirate attacks of the villages along the Lake Evendim shore, reminding Rath that Ragnar was not on trial for those attacks.

"But he is trying to make the trial about the attacks." Urson muttered softly to himself.

Urson repeated Ragnar's version. He dwelt on inconsistencies in the testimony: How Private Forest said that Ragnar had attacked Cody on his pallet and broken his neck there, then taken the time to drag Cody's body back to his own pallet before going after Wat. How Forest had apparently done nothing while this was going on.

"It is improbable to the point of fantasy that all this could happen while everyone simply watched. We know that Cody and Wat had expressed sexual desire for Ragnar. Is it not more likely that they and Rik Levitt attempted to assault him by ganging up on him? That is what happened.

"Ragnar Einarson defended himself as Valdemaran law permits him to do. He killed Cody Wruck and Wat Dahlberg in self defense, which is not a crime in Valdemaran law.

"Cody Wruck, Wat Dahlberg and Rik Levitt attempted to rape Ragnar Einarson. That is a hanging offense. Cody and Wat paid with their lives, which they should have."

Urson pointed to Rik Levitt, who looked at him in horror. "It is Rik Levitt who should be on trial for his life here, not Ragnar Einarson."

The summations finished, the tribunal retired to consider their verdict.

##

"I think it stinks." Captain Robert Bilotta said.

Major Chase raised her eyebrow. "I would have thought you were eager to convict the boy, Rob. You've never had much liking for pirates."

Captain Bilotta ran his fingers through his hair. In his mid-thirties, he was already going grey. His many scars bore testimony to his service in the Tedrel Wars and against pirates around Lake Evendim. "I've seen too many villages sacked by pirates, Greta. I don't like them. But this doesn't feel right.

"Ensign Tewkes-Felthan is right. It is wildly improbable that everyone would just stand around while the boy murdered two men."

"But it is just as improbable that one boy could fight off three men who jumped him in his sleep, killing two of them in the process." Captain Shaun Sutter pointed out. Slightly younger than Captain Bilotta, Shaun Sutter had also served in the Tedrel wars, though he was not as scarred as Robert Bilotta.

"Two pickpockets and a…" Captain Bilotta glanced at the profiles of the victims "…housebreaker? Hardly a match for someone trained to fight from birth."

Major Chase chuckled. "Especially one built like that." She waved the stump of her left arm. "I wish I'd had him at my side in that last battle."

Captain Bilotta snorted. "I think our troopers are a little better trained than a wild pirate."

"I should hope so!" Major Chase said. "But just imagine what he would be like with proper weapons training."

"That's not what we're here to discuss." Sutter pointed out. "We have to look at the evidence. Frankly, I think we have to convict."

"What's your opinion of Rath?" Bilotta asked. "You served under him, didn't you?"

Captain Sutter grimaced. "I did. I started as a fresh-faced ensign when he was training cavalry at Warford. Opinionated and obstinate, there was Only One True Way to train cavalry. His way or no way."

Bilotta nodded. "I understand he got busted two ranks at Warford. And shuffled out of cavalry."

"That was after my time." Sutter replied. "I got out of Warford as soon as I could after I passed my training. It's been a little awkward in this command now that I outrank him. Fortunately, he's not my subordinate.

"I don't like him, but I think he made a solid case here."

Major Chase bit her lip. Her command covered a large territory. With officers spread thin, Lieutenant Rath reported directly to her. Only she had actually seen Rath's file.

The three officers bent their attention to the evidence, reviewing it piece by piece. Despite the annoying discrepancies, they decided the evidence permitted only one conclusion.

##

Ragnar stood and faced the tribunal as Urson told him to.

"Ragnar Einarson," Major Chase read the verdict, "this Court finds you guilty of the wilful murder of Cody Wruck. In accordance with the laws of Valdemar, you are condemned to death by hanging for your crime.

"This Court also finds you guilty of the wilful murder of Wat Dahlberg. In accordance with the laws of Valdemar, you are likewise condemned to death by hanging for this crime. May the gods have mercy on your soul."

Ragnar rocked on his feet. Though Urson had warned him, the sentence still shook him. _'I must not show fear. I must be brave like Hagal and Godric and the others.'_ He thought.

Urson closed his eyes briefly. Logically, he had known what the verdict would be, yet he had still hoped that Ragnar might be acquitted. He glanced at Lieutenant Rath, who grinned in satisfaction.

"Do you have anything to say?" Major Chase finished.

Lost for words, Ragnar looked around. He did not want to die, he realized. He would try to die bravely. But he hated dying for a lie. "It is not true!" He said. "They attacked me. I did not attack them."

' _Who would believe me?'_ Ragnar thought. He remembered a blue eye. "Ask the Spirit Horses! They will know I speak truth!"

Captain Bilotta frowned. "Are you appealing to the Heralds?"

Ragnar nodded. "The Spirit Horses will know."

Major Chase leaned back thoughtfully. "Everyone convicted of a crime has the right to appeal to the Heralds."

Urson smiled. "Yes, Sir. They do."

"I object, Sir." Lieutenant Rath's face was contorted in anger. "This is not an appeal to the Heralds. This is just him calling out superstitious nonsense."

"When I escorted Ragnar Einarson here," Urson said, "he always referred to the Companions as 'Spirit Horses.'"

"Superstitious nonsense!" Rath objected again. "Companions are not 'Spirit Horses.' Besides it is the Heralds who judge the appeals, not the Companions."

Major Chase's eyes flicked from Ragnar to Urson to Lieutenant Rath. "Ragnar Einarson is not from Valdemar. He does not know our customs or laws. Nevertheless, I think it is in the spirit of Valdemaran Law to deem that Ragnar has appealed to the Heralds. The sentence of this Court is suspended until a Herald can hear his appeal." She banged her gavel. "Court is adjourned."

Lieutenant Rath cursed and banged his fist on his table. Major Chase raised an eyebrow but said nothing.


	5. Chapter 5 - Coming Around

Chapter 5 – Coming Around

" _And dost thou open thine eyes upon such an one, and bringest me into judgment with thee?" – Job 14:3 King James Bible_

Ragnar slept fitfully, tossing in his sleep. In his dream, the Eagle and a Spirit Horse circled him. Each fixed him with a blue eye as they went round and round. The blue eyes bored into his soul, measuring him and weighing every thing he had done, good and bad. He saw the time he had carried Kagan on his back when his friend had twisted a foot. He saw the time he had lied to his father about practicing with Einar's spear. Faster and faster the Eagle and the Spirit Horse revolved around him, peering ever deeper into his soul. Their white forms blurred as they spun around him, only their blue eyes remained distinct. They came ever closer with each circuit, moving faster all the time. At last, there was only a white whirlwind and a blue eye; the Eagle and Spirit Horse became one and he fell into the bottomless blue of the eye.

Ragnar woke, shaking and sweaty. He sat up and looked out through the bars. The Eagle's eye still shone in the sky. Tonight, the spirits of the ancestors danced across the sky in their green lines, celebrating their heroic deeds. Ragnar sighed; he would never join the dancers in the skies.

"Thinking about how the noose will snap your neck, pirate?" Private Mumme taunted from the corridor. "Maybe the hangman will botch it and you'll strangle slow."

Ragnar looked at the man disdainfully. He said nothing.

"Cat got your tongue, pirate? Too scared to speak?" Private Mumme grinned. "Can't say I blame you. I've seen it when the hangman misjudges the drop. First, there's the shock as the noose jerks tight round your neck. Then, your mouth opens wide to catch a breath. You try to raise your hands, but you can't 'cause they're tied behind your back. Your tongue sticks out and your eyes bulge…."

"That will be enough, private." Sergeant Preston interrupted. "No harassment. Man's got a right to die as a man, not like a beast."

"He's no more than a beast, Sir. Should have just hanged him when he got here."

"Maybe so. I got no cause to love his kind." The huge scar on the left side of Sergeant Preston's face twitched as he spoke. "But I am not going to spit on a man when he's down. Lay off, Mumme."

"He cost us two men on the gangs, sir." Private Mumme's resentment was plain.

Sergeant Preston snorted. "Cody and Wat were no loss. Hell, I saw this one working before he killed those two. Moved more dirt and did more pounding in a morning than Cody and Wat did in a sennight. Didn't back-talk like them, either."

Mumme smirked. "A good mule can do that, sir. It's smarter and smells better, too."

"You think he's stupid, private?" The sergeant raised an eyebrow. "Keep an eye on him. He watches everything. Thinks about it all. Make an enemy out of him and he'll kill you the moment you let your guard down."

Private Mumme chuckled. "Well, he won't get the chance, Sir. A Herald will be here in a couple of sennights, then he'll hang and we'll be done with him."

"That's up to the Heralds, Mumme, not us. In the meantime, no ragging him. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir." Private Mumme said resentfully.

Sergeant Preston turned and left.

Mumme looked over and saw that Ragnar was still watching him. "So, pirate, why do you want to bother the Heralds for? They're going to hang you anyways."

Ragnar stared back for a long moment. Just before Mumme was about to turn away, he said "My people tell a story of a Clansman taken prisoner by an evil King."

Private Mumme looked at him skeptically, but said nothing. Ragnar took his silence as permission to continue.

"The evil King condemned the Clansman to death.

"'But you cannot kill me, O King.' the Clansman said.

"'Why is that?' the King asked.

"'I am the only man in the world who can teach a horse to sing.' the Clansman said.

"The King laughed. 'If you can teach my horse to sing, I will set you free and give you your weight in gold. You have one year to teach my horse to sing.'

"Afterwards, the Clansman was taken to the stable.

"'Why did you make such a foolish boast?' the stablehand asked.

"'Many things can happen in a year.' The Clansman said. 'I might die, the King might die or….'"

Ragnar paused in the story, staring at Private Mumme.

After a long pause, the private said. "Get on with it."

"'…the horse might learn to sing.'" Ragnar finished.

Private Mumme laughed. "You know, pirate, I just might learn to like you."

Ragnar lay back on his pallet. He had dreamed the same dream for the past three nights, ever since the trial. He wondered what it meant. He looked up at the eye of the Eagle. The ancestor spirits had finished their dance. There was faint light in the east, but true sunrise was a long way off.

Ragnar pulled the blanket over his head. Urson Tewkes-Felthan had promised to return tomorrow. Ragnar looked forward to a break in the boredom of the long days in the cell.

##

Ragnar was halfway through the fifth repetition of the longboat exercises when Urson Tewkes-Felthan arrived. Urson watched silently while Ragnar finished the exercises.

Ragnar turned and saw Urson. He grinned. "Thank you for coming."

"How are you doing?" Urson asked.

"I am tired of doing nothing," Ragnar replied "and I want to be outside. I am going mad in here."

Urson nodded sympathetically. "I cannot take you outside – that is against the rules. I can talk with you a while if that helps. I saw your exercises. Do you do that often?"

"I need to tire my body so I can sleep." Ragnar said. "There is no room to run, so I do the longboat exercises instead." Ragnar went on to explain how the exercises were used to stretch and train while the longboats travelled.

"Those exercises look like some of the ones my weaponsmaster taught me." Urson said. "I will show those to you after the Herald has confirmed your story." Privately, Urson thought it was unlikely that the Herald would spare Ragnar, but now was not the time to dampen the young man's spirit.

"The Spirit Horse will know the truth." Ragnar said. "The Eagle and the Spirit Horse agree on this."

"The Eagle?" Urson asked.

"The Eagle is our guide. He watches over us and sees us all. Have you not seen him in the night sky? He is always there, watching. He turns, but his eye never moves. As he circles, the sky moves with him."

Urson made a quick deduction. "You mean the Pole Star? The star that stands still while the others turn around it?"

Ragnar nodded. "Is that what you call the Eye of the Eagle? Yes, it never moves. It watches us always."

Urson took a seat on the chair he had brought. Ragnar sat on his pallet. Urson questioned Ragnar about the Eagle and other aspects of Clan culture. Major Chase was no fool; she had noted that Ragnar liked Urson and asked Urson to learn as much about the Clans as possible from the captive. To that end, she had issued specific orders that Urson was to be allowed to visit Ragnar as long as he wished. Whatever Urson learned could prove invaluable.

Ragnar asked questions as well. He wanted to learn as much as possible about the Companions – he always called them 'Spirit Horses' – as he could. When Urson told him the tale of how King Valdemar had prayed to the Gods for help to guide his kingdom and the Companions appeared from the Grove, Ragnar cried out "I knew they were Spirit Horses!"

Evening arrived and Urson had to leave. "I thought you might be bored, so I brought you this." He pulled a small book from his pocket.

"Hey! Nothing may be given to the prisoner!" Private Forest interrupted.

Urson looked at him disdainfully. "Prisoners are permitted to have reading materials, private." He stressed the last word. "Aren't you forgetting something when you are addressing an officer, private?" Urson stressed 'private' again. Normally, Urson did not like to pull rank on subordinates, but Forest's attitude annoyed him.

Private Forest looked at Urson stonily. "Apologies, _Sir._ But Lieutenant Rath specifically ordered that the prisoner be given nothing but food and water, _Sir."_

"The regulations say that prisoners are allowed to have reading material."

Forest smirked. "He has not asked for any reading material, _Sir._ "

"I am giving it to him, Private Forest." Urson tried to sound neutral.

"It will have to be examined for concealed contraband, Sir."

Urson's lips twitched. He handed the book to Private Forest. "Then inspect it, Private."

Forest took the book. He flipped through the pages roughly, staring at Urson as he did so and never looking at the book itself. He bent the book hard, breaking the spine. "Guess there's nothing here, Sir." He said and handed back to Urson.

"Thank you, Private." Urson turned back to Ragnar, who had watched the exchange impassively. "You told me that you had learned to read a little Valdemaran despite your Shaman forbidding it."

Ragnar blushed and smiled slightly. "Yes, Ensign Urson Tewkes-Felthan."

"This is a basic history of Valdemar, written for beginning readers. It is not the whole story, just the beginning. It leaves out a lot. I think it will teach you something about us." Urson said.

Ragnar's eyes bugged out. "But I know only a few words." He said.

"Work on it." Urson smiled reassuringly. "I am sure Father Duchowny will help you when he visits."

"Who is Father Chony?" Ragnar mangled the name.

Urson looked at him in shock, then turned to Private Forest. "Hasn't Father Duchowny visited him? I was told he would."

Private Forest shook his head. "Lieutenant Rath says no visitors, except for guard members, Sir."

Urson's jaw dropped. Schooling himself not to shout, he said quietly "The Regulations permit free visits during waking hours for Priests for all prisoners. For those under sentence of death, clergy are permitted at all times, night and day."

Private Forest shook his head again. "The lieutenant says no visitors, Sir. None at all."

Urson stared at the private for so long that Forest began to fidget. Urson knew about the chain of command. Forest did not report to him. Rather than argue, he said "Very well, we shall see."

He turned back to Ragnar. "Father Duchovny is a Priest at the local temple. Usually, he is allowed to visit prisoners. He should be allowed to visit you. I will try to find out why he is not. For now, work on the book as best as you can."

Urson glanced at Private Forest once more before speaking to Ragnar. "Whatever happens, don't argue with the guards and don't get angry. Don't fight and do as you are told. It is important. Will you do this?"

Now Ragnar glanced at the private, who grinned unpleasantly at Urson's words. "For you, my friend, I will do this."

"Good. I will see you in the morning." Urson turned and left.

Ragnar looked at the book in his hand. He sat on his pallet once more and opened it. He stared at the page, which was filled with more words than he had ever seen. He spotted a word he had seen before. Painstakingly, he sounded it out 'Val – de – mar.' He could do this.

Ragnar worked patiently. His evening food came and he gobbled it quickly, returning to the task. He did not notice when the guard changed.

"Hello, Ragnar. What are you reading?"

Ragnar looked up. It was Private Zaitlin, the only guard at all friendly to Ragnar. Ragnar showed him the book. "It is very hard." He said. "I have not even done one page yet."

"Maybe I can help." Zaitlin offered. Ragnar came up to the bars; the two young men bent their heads over the book.

"What in the nine hells is the meaning of this?" Lieutenant Rath roared. Ragnar and Private Zaitlin both jumped. Candlemarks had passed and they had been unaware of the Lieutenant's entry.

Private Zaitlin stood rigidly at attention. "I was helping him with his book, Sir."

"His book? What book? I said he was to be given nothing but food and water." Rath said.

"I believe Ensign Tewkes-Felthan gave it to him, Sir."

Rath looked at Zaitlin contemptuously. "Who gives orders here? Me or a shavetail ensign?"

"You do, Sir."

"That is correct, Private. So why did you let him have the book?"

"He already had it when I came on duty, Sir. Ensign Tewkes-Felthan visited on Private Forest's watch." Private Zaitlin didn't like blame-shifting, but he wasn't going to take it for Forest.

"I see." Rath said. "I will talk to Forest later." He turned to Ragnar, holding out his hand. "Give me that."

Ragnar clenched his jaw, struggling with his hatred for Rath. He remembered his promise to his friend. Impassively, he handed the book through the bars.

Rath looked at the book. "A Valdemar Primer? You won't need that. We'll stretch your neck soon enough." He grinned in Ragnar's face as he tore the pages out of the book, scattering them on the floor.

When Ragnar said nothing, Rath turned back to Zaitlin. "No more books, understand?"

"Yes, Sir." Zaitlin said.

"You were bloody careless, getting close to him like that. What were you doing?"

"I was helping him read, Sir." Zaitlin licked his lips.

Rath sneered at the private. "Fraternizing? Consider yourself on report. Also, you were close enough he could have grabbed your sword. Consider yourself on report for that as well."

"Yes, Sir."

"From now on, you are to go no closer than five feet from his cell, understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I will see you in the morning to review your lapses." Rath turned and left, not acknowledging Zaitlin's salute.

##

"Prisoners are entitled to have reading material in their cells, Sir." Urson kept his voice neutral. He could not allow his dislike of Lieutenant Rath to divert him.

"I have forbidden it for the pirate." Rath replied. He knew the ensign disliked him; he enjoyed seeing Urson forced to remain subordinate.

"The regulation is very specific, Sir. It says…"

"Do not lecture me about the regulations, _Ensign._ " Rath said. "I knew them all before you were crapping in your diaper."

"On what grounds are you denying Ragnar Einarson access to reading material, Sir?"

Rath sneered. "I do not answer to you, Ensign. I gave the order. That is sufficient for you to know. Besides," he added, "the ignorant savage destroyed your book anyways. He obviously doesn't appreciate learning."

Urson ignored the lie. He had already spoken to both Ragnar and Brad Zaitlin. It would do no good to challenge Lieutenant Rath and might cause further trouble for the private.

Instead, Urson went to the other matter. "Father Duchowny tells me that he has not been allowed to visit Ragnar Einarson, Sir."

"That is correct, Ensign." Rath smiled unpleasantly.

"The regulations…." Urson began.

"I said I know the regulations, _Ensign._ Didn't you hear me? Milk-sop fools like you think that regulations cover everything. I have given the order that no one visits the pirate. Do you understand, Ensign?"

"Yes, Sir." Urson said.

"You will respect my authority or I will have you charged with insubordination, _Ensign._ Dismissed." Rath saluted.

"Asking for explanations does not constitute insubordination, Lieutenant."

Both men turned to face the new voice; they snapped to attention and saluted Major Chase.

"As a matter of fact, I would like an explanation of those orders myself." She continued, walking towards them.

Lieutenant Rath shot Urson a look of pure loathing. Urson kept his face expressionless; he had sent a message to Major Chase at her headquarters last evening.

"I felt it was necessary for proper security, Sir. The prisoner has proved himself dangerous and untrustworthy."

"I do not think books are a dangerous item." Major Chase said dryly.

"They could be used to conceal contraband, Sir, or as projectiles." Rath said.

"Then inspect them for contraband, Lieutenant." The major said. Her tone turned frosty. "Without destroying them, I might add."

"Yes, Sir." Lieutenant Rath's disapproval was obvious.

"As for using them as projectiles, that is true of their plates and cutlery as well. Do you intend to withhold those also?"

"No, Sir." Rath's expression showed he thought that might be a good idea.

"The prisoner will be allowed access to reading materials." Major Chase said.

"Yes, Sir."

"As for Father Duchowny, he will be allowed to visit the prisoner without hindrance. Do I make myself clear?" Her voice showed her impatience.

"Yes, Sir." Rath said stiffly.

Major Chase turned to Urson. "Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention, Ensign. Ragnar Einarson will be allowed books and clergy visits in accordance with the regulations."

"Thank you, Sir." Urson said.

"You are welcome. Dismissed. Leave us. And close the door." Major Chase saluted Urson.

Urson saluted and went out.

Once the door was closed, Major Chase turned back to Lieutenant Rath. Her face showed her anger. "I am not Major Silas, Lieutenant Rath. I will pay attention to what is going on in my command. I will see to it that the regulations are adhered to and that all orders are followed. You are not to override those orders because you don't like them or because of your prejudices. Do you understand me, Wellin?"

Lieutenant Rath flushed with anger. "I understand, Sir." He said through gritted teeth.

Major Chase was not done. "I have reversed the punishment assignment on Private Zaitlin and removed your official reprimand from his record. I want to get this pirate to talk. We know so little about his people that any scrap of information is useful. I want your men to 'fraternize' with him, as you call it. Have them write down anything they learn."

"Yes, Sir." Lieutenant Rath said. Major Chase could see he thought the idea was nonsense.

"You were correct in noting that Private Zaitlin was careless in approaching the prisoner. A _verbal_ reprimand was all that was required. I have done so and instructed him to ensure that, should he approach the cell closely, he is to remove all weapons from his person and place them well out of reach."

"The prisoner has already shown he can kill without weapons, Sir." Rath said.

Major Chase allowed herself a slight sigh. "I know that. Tell your men to be on their guard. But I want to get this pirate to talk. They will have to judge the risks for themselves, but this information is important."

"I see, Sir." Wellin Rath didn't, but he wasn't going to contradict his commander.

Major Rath could see no point in trying to convince Rath; this episode had already taken candlemarks of her valuable time. "That is all, Lieutenant." She saluted and left.

##

Father Duchowny beamed as Ragnar asked for more details about Herald Vanyel's Final Strike. The story excited Ragnar. 'Leareth' was obviously the same as 'Learth', one of the demons of the Eagle clan and 'Vanyel' was obviously 'Vanli', the Eagle's son who gave his life to destroy the demon.

The speed of Ragnar's reading progress amazed the priest. He had seen other new readers learn quickly, but Duchowny hadn't expected Ragnar to be very intelligent. His prejudice melted away as he got to know the boy. Through diligent study, Ragnar's grasp had grown exponentially over the past ten days, though the boy admittedly had little else to do.

"Herald to see the prisoner." Private Mumme announced.

Ragnar and the priest both rose and faced the Herald, who was average height and had short, white-blond hair. The very young Herald had a mild, friendly expression. Ragnar noted the easy confidence of the Herald's movement and his trim, fit figure. ' _This one knows how to fight'_ , Ragnar thought.

"I am Herald Percy Kerner." The young man introduced himself. "I will be hearing your appeal tomorrow."

Ragnar blinked. For a moment, he saw a ghostly image of a Spirit Horse superimposed on the Herald. It was as if the Herald was a Spirit Horse himself.

"What have we here?" Ragnar's vision vanished as Lieutenant Rath entered.

Herald Percy introduced himself to the Lieutenant.

"Aren't you a little young for this?" Rath asked. His contempt for Percy was obvious.

"I am just finishing my Internship now, Lieutenant." Percy's expression did not change. "At this point, I make the judgements and my Senior observes."

"I remember you." Rath said. "I was in supply in Haven when you showed up with you pony. Heard about your taste in bedmates, too. You're a little nancy-boy, aren't you?" Rath sneered.

"If you mean I am shaych, that is true." Percy shrugged. "I fail to see what that has to do with anything here."

Rath smirked. He pointed at Ragnar. "He doesn't like boy-lovers. He's here because he didn't like the way two other prisoners looked at him. Killed them both."

Ragnar blanched as the meaning of Rath's words sank in. The Herald liked sex with men. He retreated to the middle of the cell, staring at Percy in horror. "How can you be?" Ragnar asked. "It is _gomgorru._ How can a Spirit Rider be such a thing?"

"Ragnar, that is despicable." Father Duchowny barked. "I do not know who taught you such nonsense, but I assure you it is nonsense. There is nothing wrong with Herald Percy."

Ragnar looked at the priest and back at Percy, who smiled reassuringly. He trusted the priest. The memory of his vision came back. How could this be? Ragnar swallowed and gingerly approached the bars once more.

"Now that that is out of the way, we can talk for a moment." Percy said.

Rath laughed. "Oh, he'll tell you a tale, Herald. But he's no more than a dangerous beast. Get this nonsense over with and we can hang him." Rath had no doubt he could convince the young Herald.

"That may be." Percy shrugged. "I will review the evidence and examine the witnesses. If it is as you say, then I will have to agree. Assuming my Senior doesn't over-rule me."

Rath snorted. "You're just a puppy. I am glad they've still got someone mature to keep an eye on you and see that you don't go soft or pirates."

"Oh, there's nothing soft about Percy." A familiar voice said behind the lieutenant.

Ragnar's jaw dropped in surprise. A one legged Spirit Rider stood at the door.

Lieutenant Rath turned around. "You!" He said.

"Hello, Lieutenant Rath. I remember you." Herald Randen said.

Without a word, Lieutenant Rath stalked out the door.

 _ **[Herald Randen appears with the kind permission and connivance of Raelynn Daria Mayne.]**_


	6. Chapter 6 - The Horse Sings

Chapter 6 – The Horse Sings

" _And, behold, the angel of the Lord came upon him, and a light shined in the prison: and he smote Peter on the side, and raised him up, saying, Arise up quickly. And his chains fell off from his hands." – King James Bible, Acts 12:7_

Ragnar inhaled the fresh air, savoring the earthy scents borne on the light breeze. He sat on a bench in the shade of a huge oak tree and looked at the sunlight glinting off the ripples in the Wat River. The pleasure in being outside the prison was dampened only by the thought he would have to return. Ragnar positioned himself with his back to the prison, so he did not have to look at it.

The Spirit Rider – or 'Herald Percy' as he called himself – had insisted on questioning Ragnar where they could not be overheard by any of Ragnar's accusers. The only place to guarantee privacy was outside of the prison.

Lieutenant Rath had objected vociferously, even when Percy had pointed out that the Law on Heralds gave him the absolute right to do so. The lieutenant fought strenuously against Percy's demand, going so far as threatening to have the guards physically eject the Heralds.

"Do that and I will have you charged with obstructing a Herald." Randen said. "I believe that is a court martial offence in the Guard."

Lieutenant Rath's face turned so purple that Ragnar thought the man was going to have a brainstorm. Grudgingly, Rath conceded, though he insisted that Ragnar wear shackles and two guards be placed nearby, just out of earshot.

Herald Percy chose the spot near the river, where the sounds of the water would thwart any hidden eavesdroppers and make it difficult for the guards if they were inclined to disregard their orders not to try to overhear the conversation.

 _::I'd have let you know if there were any hidden watchers.::_ Inetia said as Percy laid a blanket over a round of wood to make a comfortable seat facing Ragnar.

 _::I know, love.::_ Percy replied, _::But let's not allow the lieutenant to get ideas.::_

 _::Careful, Chosen. Don't let your dislike of the lieutenant sway your judgment.::_

 _::He's an easy man to dislike.::_ Percy answered. _::I gather he and Randen have had a go-round before.::_

 _::Most definitely. But Randen won't talk about it. Even if you weren't here as his Intern, he would have called in another Herald to judge the case.::_ Inetia said.

Percy was surprised. _::Randen dislikes Rath so much that he doubts he could stay unbiased?::_ Usually a Herald could suppress his or her prejudices in judging a case.

 _::That, plus Rath would probably accuse him of bias even if Randen were absolutely objective.::_ Inetia said. _::And if you think Randen dislikes him, you should hear Derris' opinion.::_

Percy snorted. _::Given that you lot only talk to your Chosen, I'll have to take your word on that.::_

 _::Let's just say it would be decidedly unwise for Lieutenant Rath to come within ten feet of Derris in any direction.::_

Ragnar did not notice Percy's distraction as he spoke to Inetia. Ragnar watched the other Spirit Rider untie a canvas and metal chair from his Spirit Horse's saddle. The ingenious design unfolded neatly to make a secure seat with a broad base, permitting the one-legged Spirit Rider to sit comfortably despite the uneven ground beneath the chair.

Urson and Father Duchowny accompanied Ragnar; they stood about five feet behind Percy. The two Spirit Horses flanked them.

"You are Ragnar Einarson? Accused of the murder of Cody Wruck and Wat Dahlberg?" Percy said, repeating what he already knew as a way of starting the conversation.

"I am Ragnar son of Einar of the Eagle Clan of the Peoples of the Great Water." Ragnar spoke as though he were speaking to a warrior of another, allied clan.

"And I am Herald Percy Kerner of the Heralds of Valdemar, Chosen of Inetia." He gestured at his Companion. He pointed to Randen. "This is Herald Randen Sellek and his Companion Derris."

Ragnar blinked as the Spirit Rider introduced himself and the other. Once again, a vision of a Spirit Horse seemed to coincide with the Spirit Riders. The Spirit Horses, too, seemed overlain with visions; for the Spirit Horses, the visions were a woman in the case of Inetia and a man in the case of Derris.

The visions lasted only a moment. Both Spirit Horses whickered softly, as though they were amused.

"Tell me about yourself." Percy said. "I want to know Ragnar son of Einar. The way he was before this happened."

Ragnar told of his life growing up in the Clan and his early training as a warrior. When he spoke of learning Valdemaran from his mother, Percy stopped him to ask about her. When Ragnar said that his father had chosen his mother from women taken on a raid, Percy said "How do you think your mother felt about that?"

Ragnar looked at Percy in bafflement. Why would a woman's feelings matter?

Percy and the other three grimaced at Ragnar's answer. The two Spirit Horses pinned their ears and swished their tails like lashes.

"In Valdemar," Percy said stiffly, "women are fully equal to men. No one has the right to choose for them." While Ragnar tried to understand, Percy went on. "You have seen Major Chase, who commands this place?"

Ragnar nodded.

"Major Chase lost her left arm in a great battle. She commanded hundreds of men and women in that battle. You have seen the medals she wears here?" Percy pointed to his left breast.

Ragnar nodded again.

"She won those medals for bravery and being an effective commander."

Ragnar had a flash of insight. "They are tokens of her coups?"

Percy chuckled. "You might call them that. I think they are better than coup-tokens. Her commanders awarded them to her because they saw how brave she is; she did not pin them on herself to claim she was brave."

Ragnar's eyes widened. Even in the Clan, there had been some who were empty braggarts: others laughed at their coup-tokens. But if others had said she was brave….

The Spirit Horses snorted. Ragnar looked at them. They stared back at him, gravely nodding their heads.

Percy told Ragnar to continue his story. When it came to his being initiated as a warrior, Ragnar boasted a little. "I was bigger and taller than any of the others and I bested them all in all the tests of skill and guile, so I won the right to be first of those to Dance the Fire in my fifteenth summer."

Percy's jaw dropped. "What did you say?"

"I won the right to be first to Dance the Fire." Ragnar repeated.

"How old were you?" Percy asked.

"I was in my fifteenth summer." Ragnar said. Now he was baffled again. That was the age at which boys joined the warriors; he did not see why the Spirit Rider thought it important.

Percy glanced at the other Spirit Rider, who twitched his eyebrows expressively. Ragnar could see that Urson and Father Duchowny both looked surprised.

"We thought you were older." Percy said. "In Valdemar, no one may join the Guard until they are sixteen years old, and then only with their parents' consent."

Ragnar shook his head. It sounded absurd to him. "It is the way of the Clans…." He began.

Percy shook his head. "It is not that. Your people have their own ways, however much we disagree with them. The problem is that we have broken our own laws. You should not have been on the road gangs."

Ragnar did not understand. "I am your captive." He said. "You can do anything you want."

"No." Percy said. "Our law says that no one under sixteen can be put in a cell with those over sixteen. We have special arrangements for youngsters like yourself."

Ragnar bristled at being called a 'youngster.' "I am a warrior of the Eagle." He said.

"So you are." Percy said. "But you are in Valdemar now. It is our laws that apply."

"Does this mean he gets out of prison?" Urson asked.

Percy grimaced. "Unfortunately, no. He has been convicted of a capital crime. Which means he must be held in a prison cell. Just not one with older prisoners."

"He's by himself, now." Urson pointed out.

"He is." Percy agreed. "But this situation never would have arisen if we had followed the rules." He sighed. "We better get on with this."

Percy turned back to Ragnar. "Continue with your story."

Ragnar told of the failed raid and how he had been taken prisoner. He mentioned his first encounter with a Companion. "When I looked in the eye of the Spirit Horse, I was afraid at first, but then I saw it was a true spirit."

Percy blinked. Did he see a flicker of an aura around Ragnar? He flicked a thought to Inetia.

 _::I saw it, too.::_ She said. _::So did Randen and Derris.::_

The moment passed. Ragnar did not notice Percy's momentary distraction and continued his story up to his arrival at Watford Prison.

Percy asked Ragnar about Cody and Wat. Ragnar told him of Cody's advances and how he had rebuffed them. He mentioned waking twice to see Cody standing over him.

"Now tell me about the night you supposedly killed them." Percy said.

"I did kill them." Ragnar said.

 _::He's very direct.::_ Inetia commented.

"Very well," Percy said, "tell me what happened when you killed them."

Ragnar took a deep breath. He closed his eyes to focus on every detail. "I was sleeping." He began.

Carefully, Ragnar described how he had wakened when Cody, Wat and Rik landed on him. He concentrated, trying to be exactly truthful. With his eyes closed, he did not see the dumbfounded expression on the faces of Percy and the others.

Percy's eyes widened as the first glimmer of the aura reappeared. As Ragnar spoke, the aura grew stronger and larger. It spread out from Ragnar and took form.

As Ragnar described spinning Wat around and slamming him against the wall, the aura took the unmistakeable shape of a huge white eagle with wings spread wide.

 _::Oh my!::_ Inetia said.

Ragnar finished his story and opened his eyes. The eagle disappeared. Ragnar looked at the faces of Percy, Randen, Urson and Father Duchowny. Mistaking their expressions for doubt, Ragnar asked "Don't you believe me?"

Urson recovered first. "My friend, we believe every word you said."

"Yes." Percy said. "We do."

 _::It wasn't the Truth Spell.::_ Inetia said. _::But it was something that could not endure the presence of a lie.::_

Percy glanced around. Even the guards appeared to have seen the manifestation. Their expressions were a mixture of awe and terror.

"Thank you, Ragnar, for telling us what happened. I will ask you these questions again tomorrow when we hold the formal appeal." Percy said. "For now, however, that is all. I am sorry, but we must return you to your cell."

Ragnar sighed, unhappy to return to the prison. Still, he was pleased that the Spirit Riders believed him.

Percy and the other three kept silent as they walked beside Ragnar. The guards walked warily with fearful glances at their prisoner as they went.

After returning Ragnar to his cell, Percy, Urson and Randen went back to the spot by the river, leaving Father Duchowny with the young man.

"What in the nine hells was that?" Urson asked. "Was that some Heraldic Gift?"

"It didn't come from us." Randen said. "Whatever that thing was, it was associated with Ragnar."

 _::By appearances, it was a manifestation of his Clan Totem.::_ Derris said. _::It was real. And not of this world. Beyond that, we cannot say.::_

 _::Cannot or will not?::_ Randen asked.

 _::Does it make a difference?::_ Derris teased his Chosen.

 _::The way you lot love to keep secrets, none.::_ Randen's mindvoice was irritated.

 _::The only thing Inetia and I are sure of,::_ Derris said, _::is that it is something that cannot be evil.::_

Randen glanced at Percy, who was obviously having a similar conversation with Inetia.

Percy spoke for both of them, telling Urson what the Companions had said.

"I've always been a little skeptical of spirits and such." Urson said. "I think I'm convinced now."

##

When he heard Privates Mumme and Nyman's stories of what they had seen, Lieutenant Rath berated them as 'superstitious fools' and forbade them to talk of it. "Probably some Herald's trickery." He said.

Nevertheless, the story of the 'Ghost Eagle' spread quickly through the guards, growing wilder with every telling. By the midnight watch, Ragnar noticed the looks of fear in the duty guards whenever they glanced at him.

##

Herald Percy called the Court to order half a candlemark after breakfast the next morning. All of the witnesses were present. Urson sat beside Ragnar.

Lieutenant Rath sat opposite Urson; Rath smirked at Urson. "We'll get this nonsense done with by noon and hang your pet pirate after lunch." He said, just before Percy banged the gavel.

Major Chase, Captain Bilotta and Captain Sutter sat to one side. Herald Randen sat with them.

"This is a Heraldic hearing of Ragnar Einarson's appeal of his convictions for the murders of Cody Wruck and Wat Dahlberg." Percy began.

Private Mumme rose and stood before Percy. The private was white-faced and trembling.

"Is there a problem, Private?" Percy asked. "Your testimony is to be heard later."

"I – I am sorry to interrupt, Herald." Private Mumme spoke softly; he clasped his hands to keep them from shaking. "I would like to change the testimony I gave at the trial."

Percy's eyebrows shot up. The Major and Captains' mouths were round O's of astonishment.

"You are out of order, Mumme. Get back to your seat." Lieutenant Rath roared in outrage.

"Silence!" Percy roared back. "I decide what is out of order." He glared at Rath.

"Poppycock!" Rath shouted. "This is a farce. He is wasting our time."

Percy banged his gavel. "I ordered you to be silent. Sit down or I will have you thrown out of the room."

"How dare you, you mincing pansy?" Rath went on; spittle flew from his mouth.

"Guards, remove Lieutenant Rath!" Percy pointed to two troopers near the bench. The two men looked at each other, then at the Heralds and the senior officers. When Major Chase nodded, they rose and moved towards Rath.

"You can't do this." Rath protested.

"I can and I will if you do not sit down and be silent until I call upon you." Percy's face was expressionless.

Rath glanced around, taking in the looks on the faces of the others. "I will stay quiet." He said, resuming his seat.

Percy nodded. The two relieved troopers returned to their seats.

Percy looked back at Private Mumme, who was now shaking visibly. "Please speak, Private. I ask that you be brief for now. As the lieutenant says, there is an order to these things and we should follow it."

"I – I just wanted to say that I did not see the prisoner kill Cody and Wat. I was in the watch room at the time. With Private Foster. Neither of us saw anything until after they were dead." Private Mumme looked down, unable to face the Herald.

"You little son-of-a-bitch!" Rath exploded once more.

"Silence!" Percy roared. This time, he put the force of his mindspeech into the command. Rath stopped, blinking.

Almost whispering in the dead silence that followed, Percy said "One more outburst like that and you will be removed, Lieutenant, and I will acquit the prisoner for lack of an accuser."

Shaking his head as though to clear it, Rath sat down once more.

Percy turned back to the Private. "Private Mumme, you are contradicting your own testimony. Are you sure you wish to do this? It could result in a charge of perjury. Doesn't that concern you?"

Private Mumme looked Percy in the eye. "I know I'll be punished, Herald. But I'm more scared of that thing I saw yesterday."

Inetia snorted mentally to her Chosen. Percy and Randen repressed their smiles. Urson grinned broadly. Ragnar looked baffled. "I'll tell you later." Urson whispered.

"Thank you, Private. Please return to your seat. I will question you further later." As Mumme sat down, Percy glanced around. The senior officers looked grim. Lieutenant Rath glared furiously at Mumme.

Percy called Ragnar. Once Ragnar took his place, Randen placed the Truth Spell on him, drawing a few murmurs and sighs from those present.

"Did you kill Cody Wruck and Wat Dahlberg?" Percy asked.

"Yes, Spirit Rider. I killed them." Ragnar said. The blue glow remained steady. Lieutenant Rath grinned.

"Why did you kill them?"

"They attacked me." Ragnar said. Rath smirked.

Percy questioned Ragnar about Cody and Wat's sexual innuendos and approaches. The Truth Spell held steady as Ragnar spoke.

Percy and Randen were the first to note the change in the blue aura, which became whiter and began to expand. Percy's lips twitched slightly, but he kept on with the questions.

"Describe what happened the night you killed them." Percy said. "If it helps you to visualize details, you may close your eyes as you speak."

Ragnar closed his eyes and began his story. The aura brightened and enlarged immediately. In moments, the Eagle manifested fully around Ragnar.

As Ragnar went on, Percy stole glances at the audience, who appeared awestruck. Many of the troopers and civilians looked ready to bolt. Rath alone look scornful; he sneered at Percy.

Ragnar finished and opened his eyes. The Totem vanished, leaving only the blue glow of the Truth Spell.

"Trickery!" Rath shouted. "This is Herald's trickery!"

"Enough!" Percy said. "Remove him!" He pointed at Rath and looked at the guards, who hesitated.

"Now!" Percy said.

It took four guards to drag Lieutenant Rath from the room, still screaming that Percy was deceiving them.

Order restored, Percy dismissed Ragnar.

Ragnar sat beside Urson. "What happened?" He whispered. "Why is everyone looking at me? What 'trickery' was that man talking about?"

Urson smiled knowingly and patted Ragnar on the arm. "Patience. I said I'd tell you later."

Percy summoned Private Foster, who appeared shaken.

Foster took a deep breath as Randen placed the Truth Spell on him.

"Where were you when the fight began?" Percy said.

"I was in the corridor…" Foster began. The blue glow vanished.

Percy banged his gavel. "Private Foster, tell the truth."

Slowly, with many interruptions to remind the private how the Truth Spell worked, Percy got an accurate version from Foster.

"Private Foster, did you tell Lieutenant Rath that you were in the wardroom?" Percy asked.

"I did not, Herald, but I think he knew." Foster said.

Major Chase grimaced.

One by one, Percy summoned the remaining witnesses. Under the Truth Spell, Rik admitted that he, Cody and Wat had attacked Ragnar with the intention of raping him. Ragnar's eyes narrowed with hate as Rik spoke.

"Rik Levitt, I hereby charge you with attempted rape. I will hear your case tomorrow." Percy said. "Did Lieutenant Rath know that you participated in the attempt to rape Ragnar Einarson?"

"Oh yes, Herald. Told me I'd hang if I didn't say what he told me to." Rick said.

Major Chase and her fellow officers appeared outraged. Everyone else began murmuring. Percy banged the gavel once more to restore order.

Percy went down the list of witnesses. Everyone who claimed to have seen the killing changed their story; most indicated that Lieutenant Rath had 'persuaded' them to testify against Ragnar.

Percy dismissed the last witness. The young Herald stroked his chin for a few moments, everyone waited silently as he prepared to speak.

"The convictions of Ragnar Einarson for the murder of Cody Wruck and Wat Dahlberg are reversed." He said. "I find that Ragnar Einarson acted in self defense. There were no valid grounds for the charges."

The courtroom erupted in a babble. Urson hugged Ragnar. Percy banged his gavel for order. "Further, I have learned that Ragnar Einarson has not yet reached the age of sixteen years and should not have been confined with older prisoners. It remains that he was sentenced to the road gangs for piracy against Valdemar. Accordingly, I have considered an appropriate form of restitution for him: He will be sent to the waystation at Gillhold, there to aid Herald Adrian Gill in the maintenance and workings of the waystation and resupply depot there.

"For now, Ragnar Einarson is to be immediately released into the custody of myself and Herald Randen Sellek until such time as we can arrange for him to go to the waystation at Gillhold."

Urson cheered aloud, earning a frown from Major Chase. Percy banged his gavel once again.

"There remain several cases of what appear to be perjury in a capital case. I will judge those cases individually tomorrow."

Percy looked at Major Chase, who stared back grimly. Pointing at the door, Percy said. "Please have Lieutenant Wellin Rath brought back into the courtroom."

There was a pause while troopers escorted the Lieutenant back in. Rath glowered at everyone in sight as they brought him before Percy. Rath glared at the young Herald, but said nothing.

"Lieutenant Wellin Rath, from the testimony this morning, there are grounds to charge you with suborning perjury." Rath opened his mouth to speak; Percy banged the gavel before he could say anything. "As you are an officer of the Guard, this matter is referred to your commander." Percy turned to Major Chase.

Major Chase stood. "Lieutenant Wellin Mercer Rath. The evidence heard today requires that I immediately relieve you of all duties. Tomorrow, you are ordered to appear before myself and Captains Bilotta and Sutter for an inquiry as to whether you should be charged with suborning perjury in a capital case, subverting justice, falsifying information, making false reports, lying to a superior officer and any other charges which may appear necessary."

At first, Rath looked outraged. As Major Chase listed the possible charges, his face went white. He clenched his jaw. When Major Chase finished, he stood still for a long moment. "I resign from the Guard." He said.

"Your resignation is refused. These matters must be heard." Major Chase looked at him stonily. "Dismissed."

Percy banged his gavel. "This hearing is concluded."

Urson jumped to his feet and cheered. He embraced Ragnar, who looked about uncertainly.

Randen and Percy came over, grinning. "You come with us." A guard undid Ragnar's shackles.

Urson, Randen and Percy led him out of the prison, explaining what had happened.

"You mean I'm free?" Ragnar said.

"Not entirely." Percy said. "For now, you have to stay with us. You can move around, but you may not run away."

Inetia and Derris waited outside the door. Ragnar's eyes widened as he saw them. "May I touch them?" He asked.

Inetia stepped forward. Ragnar threw his arms around her neck.

Father Duchowny joined them as they walked towards the river. With a sudden yell, Ragnar broke into a run. He reached the river and dove in. He swam and splashed in the water until the others reached the bank. Grinning broadly, Ragnar climbed out of the water.

##

The five men and two Companions sat around the campfire near the waystation. Ragnar leaned up, watching the sparks rise into the sky. The ancestors' dance covered the whole sky with green fire.

Percy and Randen explained carefully what would happen to him. Ragnar did not mind. He would be serving the Spirit Horses; in Ragnar's eyes, he owed them a life debt.

When they had told him about the appearance of the Eagle, Ragnar could not believe it at first. Only the earnest assurances of the others made him think it possible. Still, he wondered. What geas had the Eagle placed on him?

"So, what happens to Rath?" Percy asked. "I'm a little weak on military law."

"He will be charged with suborning perjury and a lot of other crimes." Urson said. "Since it was a capital case, the minimum he can expect is to be stripped of rank and five years in prison, plus Discharge With Prejudice." No one present doubted he would be convicted.

"So you are now a Lieutenant." Randen said to Urson. "Good for you, but I thought you were interested in a field command."

Urson grinned. Major Chase had buttonholed him after lunch. After telling him she had the approval of Captain Stroud in Goldenoak, she offered him the post of lieutenant at the prison. She pointed out it would put him near his wife.

"I do want a field command." Urson said. "That's the best part. They've started to build the new Guard post at Redruth. Major Chase has been promised the Colonelcy. I go with her when she transfers there next year. She hinted that, if I do a good cleanup here, she will consider me for captain."

The others congratulated Urson.

Ragnar leapt to his feet. "I am the son of an Eagle!" He cried in his native tongue. He began to dance the Eagle dance, circling sunwise around the fire, swooping and turning as he went. The others weren't sure, but there seemed to be a ghostly eagle dancing with him.


	7. Chapter 7 - Spirit Guides

Chapter 7 – Spirit Guides

" _There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,  
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." __\- William Shakespeare,_ _Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 5, Lines_ _167-8_

Ragnar lay in the grass, staring up at the stars. The Spirit Riders had gone into their waystation, as they called it. Urson and Father Duchowny had returned to the town. To Ragnar's surprise, the Spirit Riders had not put any shackles on him.

"How do you know I won't run away?" Ragnar asked.

Percy only grinned and flicked his eyes at the Spirit Horses. Both of the Spirit Horses whickered, a sound so like a laugh that Ragnar had no doubt that was what it was. Ragnar grinned back; there was no way he would be able to evade them.

With a blanket, Ragnar was comfortable in the long, soft grass. The presence of the Spirit Horses was reassuring rather than threatening.

The lights of the ancestors' dance rivaled the moonlight which filled the meadow; the coats of the Spirit Horses glowed in the light.

Free of the prison and from the threat of death, Ragnar wondered what would become of him now. He was bound to the Spirit Horses for nearly two years but where could he go after? He was not Valdemaran and, as a captured warrior, would be shunned by the clans if he tried to return. There seemed no place for him.

He sat up. Maybe the stones would talk to him. Normally, only the Shamans could read the stones, but sometimes a warrior could seek guidance on his own.

Ragnar got to his feet. The Spirit Horses lifted their heads and looked at him.

Ragnar scanned the ground. One white stone caught his eye immediately. It was long and thin, vaguely resembling a pair of outstretched wings. Ragnar picked it up and clenched it to his chest.

He searched the ground, looking for stones that called to him. The two Spirit Horses joined him so silently that Ragnar did not notice them until the stallion – the one called Derris – nudged him and pointed to a stone with his hoof. Yes, that one felt right. Ragnar picked it up and added it to the ones he had already gathered. The mare, Inetia, pointed to another.

With the help of the Spirit Horses, Ragnar soon had a small pile of stones that felt right. He pulled a stick from the remains of the fire and began clearing a space to draw a circle. Derris snorted loudly; Ragnar looked at Derris. The Spirit Horse shook his head; he gestured towards the path leading to the river and started towards it. Ragnar hesitated. Inetia stamped a hoof and made the same gesture as Derris.

Uncertainly, Ragnar put the stones in a fold of cloth and followed the Spirit Horses to the riverbank, then along it until they came to a small oxbow. They walked out to the center of the small near-island. In the middle lay a huge flat stone. It was about eight feet across and the top rose to waist height. The two Spirit Horses moved to either side of it.

Ragnar approached the stone slowly, pausing between each step as he came nearer. He stopped a foot away and reached out. He touched it and immediately pulled his hand back. He wasn't hurt, but there was a sensation of pure power in the stone. It made Ragnar think of great anchor, holding a ship against a strong current.

Hesitantly, Ragnar touched the stone once more. The power was there, tamed and tightly controlled. There was purpose in the power. He closed his eyes. He could not 'touch' the power or guess the purpose. He had a vision of a taut line that ran out from the stone towards the Great Water linking the stone with something many miles away.

One of the Spirit Horses snorted. Ragnar opened his eyes and saw that they had positioned themselves on the east and west sides of the stone. They looked at him expectantly.

Ragnar climbed up on the stone. He still carried the stick he had picked up by the firepit. Placing one end as near the center of the stone as he could, Ragnar used the burnt end of the stick to draw a black circle. Done, he put the stick aside.

Since he intended to ask the Eagle for guidance, Ragnar sat on the south side of the circle, facing the Eye of the Eagle. He breathed deeply, calming himself. He cupped the stones in both hands and stared at the circle. The moonlight cast his shadow onto the circle. The shadow of his head was just beginning to cross the center of the circle. He closed his eyes once more and prayed wordlessly to the Eagle.

A great wind swept over him from the north: A wind not of this world, but of the other. There was a _presence_. Ragnar opened his eyes once more. On the north side of the circle a gigantic vision of an eagle perched with widespread wings. _'I ought to be frightened._ ' Ragnar thought absently in one part of his mind. Instead, there was no sensation at all, not even wonder.

The time was now. Ragnar cast the stones upon the circle. The moment he did so, the vision disappeared and the power of the stone beneath him trembled. Ragnar glanced down. He had cast the stones at the very moment his moon-shadow had centered in the circle.

The winged stone had stopped near the eastern edge of the circle; it seemed to look towards the south, where a large black stone lay just outside the circle. Another white stone lay near it, just inside the circle. There were several lesser stones clustered around the second white stone. A trail of small stones led uncertainly towards the west.

Ragnar touched the winged stone. If he read correctly, he would go east and then south. Perhaps in the distant future, he would go west.

He bent to scoop up the stones and wrap them once more. He noticed one more thing: In the center of the circle, a small black stone had shattered. He gathered all of the other stones, then swept the bits of the broken stone away.

##

 _Shaman Kadir and the other six shamans of the Lake People sat in the Sacred Grove. Above them, the bright moonlight touched only the tops of the towering trees. The ancestors danced brightly even in the moonlight. The assembled shamans waited silently for the proper time._

 _The sacrifice had been made; the Eagle Clan had borne the cost of it. The casting before the ships had gone out had told Kadir of the impending catastrophe for the ships and crews. Nevertheless, they had to go – all of the shamans had agreed it was the only course through the storms that lay ahead. As the oldest and largest of the clans, the Eagle Clan was the natural choice to make the sacrifice. The talking stones had confirmed it before the ships sailed. When one of the stones had rolled out of the casting circle, the shamans had wondered what it meant._

 _The moonlight began to fill the path from the Grove to the Great Water, which ran due north from the Grove. The path was a straight line the width of a longboat between the Grove and the lake. The moonlight touched the ground of the path. Kadir waited for the moment. When the moonlight shone on the whole length of the path, he cast the talking stones into the circle._

 _The shamans sighed in satisfaction. The last time Kadir had cast the stones, the wandering stone had been surrounded, trapped by other stones. This time, it rolled free once more. Oddly, it came to rest on the very edge of the circle, half in and half out. Even better, there was a path between the wandering stone and the center of the circle. Only a few stones lay on the path, including one ominous large black stone._

##

"Lieutenant Rath committed suicide last night." Urson told the Heralds. "He hanged himself just outside Major Chase's window. His body was the first thing she saw when she opened her shutter this morning."

Percy and Randen looked at each other. They both had seen suicide-as-revenge before. It only increased their contempt for the late Wellin Rath.

"It will make the problem of unravelling the perjury more difficult." Percy said. "With Rath dead, the others are sure to try to throw all the blame on him to avoid their own responsibility." Randen and Urson agreed.

Ragnar listened. He did not understand the Spirit Riders' concern. In the clans, dishonored men usually chose suicide to avoid banishment or execution.

After some discussion, Percy, Randen, and Urson prepared to head to the prison for the inquiry. Derris lay down so that Randen could get on. Ragnar admired the way Randen balanced himself on Derris' bare back.

Unsure what to do, Ragnar started to follow the group. "You don't have to come with us." Percy said. "If you want to stay here at the waystation, the Companions can keep you company. Father Duchowny will probably be along later."

The prison held only bad memories. Ragnar had no wish to go near it. Besides, some of the guardsmen were still hostile. He much preferred staying with the Spirit Horses at the waystation.

Left alone until the Spirit Horses returned, he decided to bathe and clean his clothes. The stink of the prison still clung to them despite his plunge into the river yesterday. Taking a towel, he went down to the pool that Percy had shown him. He pulled a soaproot and set to work on himself and his clothing. Once clean and dry, he used the towel as a breechclout while his clothes dried. He had already noticed that the Valdemarans did not approve of casual nudity.

He returned to the waystation and hung his clothes in the sun. The Spirit Horses came back as he did so. "What can I do for you?" He asked.

Derris walked over to the brush-box and pointed to it. Ragnar grinned. He picked up a brush and currycomb. "Who's first?" He asked.

Derris started forward, but Inetia stamped a hoof and tossed her head at Derris with her ears pinned. Derris backed up.

Ragnar laughed and started brushing Inetia. He tried to imitate what he'd seen the Spirit Riders do. At first he was clumsy, but gradually he got the knack of applying firm, even strokes. Inetia closed her eyes and sighed in contentment.

He was nearly done with Derris when Father Duchowny showed up. Derris gave little grunts of pleasure as Ragnar dug his fingers into the stallion's crest.

"You seem to have found the way to a Companion's heart." The priest said.

Ragnar smiled and gave the Spirit Horse a final stroke of the brush. Derris touched his nose to Ragnar's shoulder, then moved off to join Inetia lying in the shade.

Ragnar passed the day with the priest. In addition to reading, the priest tried to explain Valdemaran laws and customs. "There is no true way" made perfect sense: Didn't everyone have their own Gods? Since the People of the Lake traded more than they raided, he had no difficulty understanding the rules about buying and selling freely. The ban on slavery puzzled him; weren't some people naturally better than others?

They conversed until the Spirit Riders returned at the end of the day. Ragnar had not noticed Derris leaving the waystation until the Spirit Horse returned carrying Randen on his back.

Today, he was struck by how tired the Spirit Riders looked as they returned. He mentioned it to Father Duchowny as they approached.

"You are seeing them 'off duty.'" The priest said. "Out there, they have to appear alert and ready at all times, no matter how exhausted they truly are. Back here at the waystation, they can let the mask slip and relax."

Ragnar thought of how he had stood watches himself and how tired he had been at the end of the watch. He nodded at the priest's explanation. He poured a cup of kava from the pot for each of the Spirit Riders as they sat down by the fire pit.

"Thank you, Ragnar." Percy said. Randen nodded as well. "We told you that you would go to the waystation and resupply depot at Gillhold to help the resident Herald there."

Ragnar nodded apprehensively.

"There is a supply convoy passing through here the day after tomorrow on its way to Haven. You will go with them to Haven. From there, another convoy will take you to Gillhold."

Ragnar's face fell. He did not want to leave the Spirit Horses.

Percy got a distant look for a moment before returning his gaze to Ragnar. He smiled. "Inetia says she and Derris will miss you too. But you can't stay with us. We have a circuit to finish. It will be another moon before we return to Haven."

Percy's eyes flicked to Inetia once more. "Inetia says you will like Werra. Werra is her grand-dam."

Ragnar blinked. He had not thought of the Spirit Horses as having families. He supposed they must have come from somewhere, but had thought of them as purely spirit beings.

Inetia and Derris both blew loud snorts. After a moment, Percy and Randen both laughed.

"If you'd listened to them enough, you wouldn't think of them as spiritual at all." Randen said.

##

The journey to Haven took nearly a fortnight. Captain Theo Clagett and his men were uncertain of their prisoner at first, especially as the Heralds had insisted that he be neither bound nor shackled. Soon, they relaxed and accepted the young man, especially after he began to help with the chores of the camp each night and morning.

The troopers questioned Ragnar about life in the clan and took the time to explain Valdemaran customs in their turn. Trooper Noah Trowbridge was particularly grateful when Ragnar began helping him care for the officers' warhorses after Captain Clagett's stallion Grom kicked Noah, bruising him.

Ragnar was not particularly interested in the warhorses – to him, they were nothing compared to the Spirit Horses – but years of training in stalking wild prey had taught him to read an animal's body language. He had no trouble avoiding Grom's kicks and bites and earned the stallion's grudging acceptance with careful rubs and scratches.

To Captain Clagett's amusement, Ragnar was even marching in step with the others by the time they arrived at Haven.

##

Haven astounded Ragnar. The size of the city was incomprehensible. He had seen hundreds and thousands of people already in Valdemar, but even that did not prepare him for the vast numbers crowded into the capital. For the first time in his life, Ragnar felt frightened. He was grateful for the escort of the convoy.

It seemed to take forever to wind through the twisted streets of the city until they reached another wall. There, a guard challenged them, only allowing the troop to go in after Captain Clagett spoke with the guard for a while. Captain Clagett pointed Ragnar out to the guard, who eyed him suspiciously.

Once inside the gate, Captain Clagett told Ragnar to go with a trooper, who took him to a room and told him to wait. Another soldier came in carrying a set of papers. "Ragnar Einarson?" He asked. Ragnar nodded and the soldier told him to follow.

He led Ragnar across the Palace grounds. Ragnar gawked at everything. The Palace was many times larger than any building Ragnar had ever seen, including the prison. He saw one or two Spirit Horses with their Riders; these distracted Ragnar so much that the soldier had to grab his arm to keep him from running into people. Ragnar could see some trees and grass, but they were on the other side of the Palace. The soldier led him to a huge windowless building near the barracks, then down some steps into a small office. The soldier handed the papers to a woman wearing rich clothing who seemed to be in charge.

Lady Geraldine Peregrine was not amused that a pirate had been sentenced to help in one of the resupply stations. She eyed Ragnar suspiciously, then sighed. "Well, I suppose if the Heralds have ordered it, we have to make do. There is a shipment going to Gillhold in five days. You can help Merle get the order together."

She summoned a man a few years older than Ragnar. "This is Merle Ord. You will work with him." She introduced Ragnar and told him to work with Merle. She dismissed them both and went back to her paperwork.

Ragnar spent the next five days fetching loads for the shipment. Gradually, Ragnar learned his way around the gigantic warehouse as they assembled scores of articles. Ragnar worked, ate and slept with the other warehousemen. Constantly busy, Ragnar had little time to talk with the others.

On the sixth day, they rose in the early morning once more. Ragnar helped Merle hitch teams of mules to the wagons, surprising the warehouseman. He told Merle the men of the military convoy had shown him. "You're a quick learner. You'll do well." Merle said.

##

Ragnar watched the wagons disappear down the lane, heading back to Haven from the Resupply Depot and waystation.

"Now, lad, let's get you settled in." The elderly Spirit Rider said.

Ragnar had taken an immediate liking to Adrian Gill, despite the vast difference in their ages. Ragnar had never seen anyone so old. He was sure that the Spirit Rider was even older than Angsar, the oldest man of the Eagle Clan. Like Randen, Adrian was missing a leg at the hip. He also had a patch over one eye.

The Spirit Rider reminded Ragnar of Shaman Kadir. He carried himself with a quiet authority, though he seemed much more approachable than the Eagle Shaman.

Herald Adrian showed Ragnar to a small room near his own. Ragnar noted that the Spirit Horse had a stall attached to Adrian's room. "We like to stay close." Adrian explained as Ragnar stroked Werra.

Adrian explained the routine of the waystation over the next couple of days and showed Ragnar the cleaning and maintenance duties. Ragnar had no objection to taking over much of the work from Adrian, whose advanced age had made even the light duties challenging for him.

Ragnar had a great deal of free time. Adrian encouraged Ragnar to read from the extensive library and to work out in the small training yard. Ragnar's technique with a training sword appalled Adrian; he took a seat in the training yard and began putting Ragnar through drills. When Ragnar protested that he already knew how to use a sword, Adrian picked up a practice sword himself. After the aged Spirit Rider disarmed Ragnar twice while standing on his one leg, Ragnar decided he did need training.

On the third day, Adrian told Ragnar to prepare four of the rooms and stalls that connected to the huge room called "Companions' Hall". Ragnar looked at him curiously.

"Werra told me to expect four tonight." Adrian said. Ragnar nodded. Naturally, the Spirit Horses would know when another of their kind approached.

Ragnar was shocked when Herald Mila rode into the waystation in the mid-afternoon. Even though he had seen Major Chase and other women in the army, he did not expect a female Herald. He stood tongue-tied as Mila dismounted from Abarrane in the courtyard.

"Is Adrian around?" Mila asked. "Are you his new helper?"

"Yes, I – he – yes, I help the Herald. He – I am Ragnar." Ragnar stumbled for words.

The Spirit Horse snorted as if amused. The Spirit Rider got the look that told Ragnar she was 'talking' to the Spirit Horse. "I see." Mila said, biting her lip. "I am Herald Mila and this is my Companion Abarrane." She extended her hand.

Ragnar shook her hand automatically. "Um – your room is ready for you." He managed.

Adrian came out of the house at that moment, saving him from further confusion. Mila hugged Adrian and the two started chatting as Adrian led them towards Companions' Hall.

Spirit Horse or not, Ragnar did not expect Abarrane to enter the building. Did the Spirit Horse wink at him as she walked through the door?

Mila and Abarrane settled into their room before joining Adrian in the hall. Ragnar fetched wine for Mila and Adrian as well as water for the two Spirit Horses, who lay down on the mattresses behind them.

After a half candlemark, the two Spirit Horses whickered quietly, interrupting their riders' conversation. Adrian and Mila got the 'absent' look that told Ragnar they were talking to the Spirit Horses. "Ah, yes! Here comes Sergei now." Adrian said. He and Mila rose and went out into the yard. Ragnar followed.

The new Spirit Rider and Spirit Horse came through the gate just as Ragnar came out of the door. The rider jumped down and greeted Adrian with a handshake and Mila with a hug and kiss that raised Ragnar's eyebrows. Adrian introduced the newcomer as Sergei; he gave Ragnar a firm handshake and a broad smile.

Sergei was short, but very broad-shouldered. His waist was as narrow as Ragnar's. He was mostly bald. What hair he had was black with just a touch of grey at the temple. His square face was as weathered as a senior captain's and his eyes were brown. He smiled readily and spoke boisterously. Ragnar guessed his age about mid-forties. He introduced his Spirit Horse as Siubhan.

"I thought you had an intern with you. What happened?" Adrian asked.

Sergei laughed. "Chan's parents live in Three Rivers. I gave him a candlemark to visit with them when we passed through. He'll be along shortly."

The last two Spirit Riders arrived just before dinner. The intern, Chan, was a young man only a few years older than Ragnar himself. The other Spirit Rider was another woman with short hair and an almost masculine face; Ragnar found Ylsa intimidating, despite her kind smile.

With everyone moving about before the meal, Ragnar became aware he could not tell the Spirit Horses apart. All five of them were mares and none had anything that distinguished them from the others to Ragnar's eyes. He kept calling them by the wrong names. "Don't worry about it." Ylsa said. "Even Heralds have trouble keeping them straight."

After the dinner dishes were cleared away and washed, Ragnar joined the others in the Hall. The young one, Chan, pulled out a gittern and began playing. The others joined in with the songs. Ragnar, not knowing the words, sat back and listened. He noticed another sound rising and falling with the notes. Ragnar looked around, trying to locate the source. At last, he realized it was Werra; the mare was 'humming' in her throat along with the music.

The Spirit Horse was singing.


	8. Chapter 8 - Among Friends

Chapter 8 – Among Friends

" _It is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma." – Winston Churchill (Describing Russia)_

Ragnar settled into the routine of the waystation, helping Adrian with the chores. The work was not hard or time consuming; he had plenty of time to read and practice weaponswork.

He got to know the guardsmen running the muleyard beside the waystation. Although the guardsmen at the farm were primarily responsible for the brood stock and the training, the guard required they keep up on their weaponswork. He first met them when they came to practice on the training ground. About a sennight after he arrived, he was working against the pells while Adrian supervised.

Corporal Tilton and a dozen guardsmen arrived and watched him for a moment.

"Do you need a sparring partner, lad?" The corporal asked.

Ragnar glanced at Adrian. "It will be good for you." The elderly Herald said. Adrian knew Ike Tilton well; the corporal was no master, but he had solid skills and taught patiently. The young, fit troopers could give Ragnar the practice he needed.

Under Corporal Tilton's tutelage, Ragnar soon appreciated that the clan way of fighting – hit harder and faster, bash your opponent into the ground – was ineffective against the controlled and targeted moves of the Valdemaran guardsmen. He also learned there was a difference between a one-on-one fight and a chaotic melee with enemies and allies in all directions. Further, the coordinated movements of a military unit could easily destroy an undisciplined throng of fighters bent on personal glory.

At night, Ragnar thought about what he had learned. Painful though it was to admit, he could see that his people would always be crushed by the Valdemarans in open combat. The Lake Peoples attacked only easy, defenseless targets, avoiding the Valdemaran Guard. The idea bothered Ragnar.

Adrian also encouraged Ragnar to read and suggested several books for him. The Herald questioned Ragnar about what he had read, forcing the young man to think about ideas he had not considered before. Ideas like law and justice began to take on meaning beyond the decisions of the elders or the tribal council.

Still, Ragnar's main job was to help Herald Adrian, which he did willingly. He proved especially adept at repairing and rebuilding. When Adrian remarked on his skill, he explained that boys in the clans were taught shipbuilding skills from the time they could hold a hammer. Woodcarving was a common hobby among the clans. Confined to the longhouses in winter, clansmen produced beautiful, intricate carvings.

Adrian asked him why the clans did not sell their carvings. Ragnar grinned and said "I don't think we'd be welcome at your midsummer fairs." Werra snorted loudly.

The best days were the days when the Spirit Horses and their riders came through. The Spirit Horses enchanted him. He appreciated their grace and beauty and recognized their intelligence, but he sensed there was more to them. He lavished attention on them, much to the amusement of both the Spirit Horses and their riders. Occasionally, they allowed him to help groom one. Watching them, Ragnar soon noticed the deep love between the Spirit Horses and their Riders.

He joined them at their meals, listening quietly as they shared stories. Most of the Spirit Riders' conversation was about their fellows and their doings, including cases they had dealt with in the field. The stories baffled Ragnar at first; he had no idea what they were talking about. Sometimes, one of them would see his puzzled expression and try to explain, patiently answering Ragnar's confused questions. Adrian would take time after the Spirit Riders left to explain further. Piece by piece, he began to get a sense of what they actually did.

Sometimes, they spoke of fighting bandits or bullies. Ragnar listened avidly to the stories, imaging himself in the place of the Spirit Riders. When a young Spirit Rider named Spencer described his first encounter with a Tedrel ambush during the war, Ragnar daydreamed of being in Spencer's place, routing the Tedrels. Werra nudged Ragnar's shoulder and winked at him when he looked at her.

Within two moons, it was more than just imagination: Ragnar _saw_ visions of the actual events described. The first time it happened, a Rider named Mata described how a farmer had given her a black eye when he objected. "The second time I dropped him, Callan put a hoof on his chest. He lost interest after that."

As the others laughed at her story, Ragnar flinched. It was as if he had seen the incident through Mata's eyes, even seeing the scar under the farmer's right eye and the fear on his face as he stared at Calan's silver hoof. He glanced around, wondering if any of the others had experienced the same thing. Calan caught his eye. The stallion nodded gravely at Ragnar.

It happened again two nights later when Ylsa described defending Selenay during the Final Battle. Both Ylsa and Felara looked at him curiously for a moment before turning back to Adrian.

On the morning of Fall Day, Ragnar waved to Tobias and Irian as they galloped away in the pre-dawn light. The night before, Tobias had described the battle of Redruth. The image of the Tedrel axe descending on Tobias' arm shocked Ragnar to the core. The feeling stayed with Ragnar all night. As he watched Tobias go, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Lad, we have to talk." Adrian said. His tone was so like Ragnar's father that the boy wondered what he did wrong. He followed Adrian into the small kitchen of the house and nervously took a seat at the table.

Adrian saw the worry on his face and smiled. "Relax. This is good. At least, I think it is good.

"Ragnar, you are a mindspeaker."

Ragnar blinked. The Spirit Riders had mentioned mindspeaking several times and explained it to him.

"I thought only the Spirit Riders had it." Ragnar said.

"Most of us do, but not all of us." Adrian said. "Mine is quite limited, which is why I didn't notice yours before. Ylsa thought you might have it and told me to watch. Herald Tobias confirmed it to me last night. It's getting stronger and we have to do something about it."

"Are you going to block it?" The Spirit Riders had mentioned blocking gifts a few times.

Adrian chuckled. He reached out and ruffled Ragnar's hair affectionately. "No lad, but you need to control it. We only block gifts if people misuse them or can't control it themselves."

"Misuse it?" Ragnar asked.

"If people listen in on others thoughts to spy on them or take advantage of them. We don't allow snooping in the minds of others. Heralds are taught never to read the thoughts of others except in the case of need or in the service of justice or Valdemar. We won't allow a mindspeaker to cheat others. If they do, we will block their gift. Sometimes, a person can't control their gift and we have to block it to stop them from going mad."

"Are you going to teach me?"

Adrian shook his head. "I have only a weak gift. Tobias told me yours is about average as the gift goes, which means I'm not strong enough to teach you. We're having a Herald come down from Haven to help you. You know him – Herald Randen. He's between interns right now and can take a moon or two to work with you."

Ragnar was delighted he would get to see Randen again. "When will Spirit Rider Randen arrive? Will his Spirit Horse come with him?"

Adrian laughed. "Lad, no Herald goes anywhere without his Companion if he can avoid it." Ragnar smiled. Adrian sobered "Which brings me to another small matter. Would you please stop calling us Spirit Riders and Spirit Horses? I am a Herald. Werra is a Companion. That is what we like to be called."

Ragnar blushed. He glanced at Werra, who was looking over the half door that connected her stall to the kitchen. "If you say so, Herald Adrian, Companion Werra." They were still Spirit Horses and Spirit Riders to him, Ragnar thought privately. Werra snorted forcefully.

Randen arrived a sennight later. "I'd have gotten here sooner, but without an intern to help me, I have to stay at inns, which takes more time."

Ragnar greeted Randen and Derris with a broad grin. He asked about Herald Percy.

"Poor Percy got Sorrows North for his next circuit. It's a tough one, but I have no doubt he will do well. He says he is looking forward to seeing if the legend of Vanyel's ghost is true."

An overwhelming vision staggered Ragnar, sending him to his knees. He saw a vigilant, powerful Spirit Rider guarding the North with mighty gifts. The Spirit Rider was a true spirit, both of this world and not of this world. He seemed both very young and incredibly old. Somehow, the Spirit Rider and his Spirit Horse were bound to and part of a great forest. There was another spirit with them, bound to the Spirit Rider.

Randen and Adrian reached out to Ragnar, both offering a hand while supporting themselves on Derris with their other hand. "What is it, lad?" Adrian asked.

Ragnar took a deep breath, sitting back on his haunches. He rose to his feet on his own. "I had a vision." Briefly, he described what he had _seen_.

The two Heralds looked at each other, scarcely believing. "That sounds very much like the Sorrows legend, complete with Yfandes and Stefen." Randen said. "Have you had other visions?"

"Yes, but nothing as strong as that." Ragnar said.

"It looks like we have something else to talk about." Randen said. "Let's get settled."

Ragnar followed them into their room. He helped Randen untack Derris, listening as the Herald described his first visit to Gillhold many years ago. "I was still in grey. A yearmate and I were going to visit another yearmate at his home in the Jaysong Hills. I stayed in this very room."

Ragnar's eyes widened as he caught an image of a teenaged Randen and a young female in the bed, very obviously enjoying one another's company. Randen's back was turned, so he did not see Ragnar's expression. Derris whickered loudly from the stall. The Companion refused to explain his amusement.

Randen postponed any training until the next morning, saying he wanted to start when they were both fresh. After dinner, he questioned Ragnar about his experiences in Valdemar and his impressions and thoughts. Ragnar's comments pleased and sometimes amused the Herald.

After breakfast and his morning chores, Ragnar joined Randen and Derris in Companions' Hall. "First, let's get an idea of what you are hearing in your mind."

"I don't get the sensation of 'hearing' anything." Ragnar said. "I get images, as though I was looking through another person's eyes."

Randen nodded. "That's a fairly common beginning. Visual memories and thoughts tend to be stronger than thoughts expressed in words."

 _::Do you hear my words now?::_ He asked in mindspeech, forcing his thoughts as much as he could. Ragnar's eyes narrowed slightly, but he showed no other reaction. Randen tried again, with the same result.

"Did you feel anything?" He asked aloud.

"For a moment, I thought you were trying to tell me something, but I couldn't figure it out."

Randen smiled slightly. "It's a beginning. Tell me about those 'images' you have been seeing."

Ragnar described how he'd 'seen' things that people were talking about and described them in as much detail as he could. He was just about to describe how he 'saw' Companions as humans and their riders as Companions when Derris, who was behind Randen, caught his eye. The Companion shook his head vigorously. Unsure, Ragnar stopped talking.

Unaware of Derris' interference, Randen pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Most of what you describe sound like memories with strong emotions behind them, which would explain the strength of the sending. The rest just seem to be very vivid memories. I'm going to try something. Close your eyes."

Ragnar obeyed. Randen closed his own eyes, remembering his own Choosing.

##

 _The nicest part of taking messages to Master Chavish was the return trip. The retired Healer lived in a fairly nice section of the city, but that meant that it was up the hill. In the case of Master Chavish, at the end of a long, winding hill. Randen was breathing hard and was only halfway there._ __

 _Between one eye on traffic and another on the cobbled street, he almost didn't see the shape emerge from the alley. He did, however, see the looming white wall that appeared in his path._ __

 _"I'm sorry Herald, I didn't see you." The apology was automatic. He'd seen plenty of Companions here and there, their Heralds off on the King's business. He'd never been this close to one though._ __

 _A snort and a gentle 'wuff' of hay scented breath silenced him. The Companion twitched his tail and tilted his head to meet Randen's gaze._ __

 _A saddled, solitary Companion. Randen looked around wildly before dragging his gaze back to the Companion._ __

 _"I...Me?" it came out as a squeak._ __

 _::My name is Derris. I Choose you.::_ __

 _For the first time, Randen's books failed him. No words could convey the sure certainty of this bond, the depth-less knowledge that here, here was one's heart, one soul in two bodies._ __

 _Eventually, he sighed and blinked, drawing back - but not apart! Never apart! - from Derris's mind. Surety settled over Randen like a second skin. Derris gave him a gentle nudge. ::Time to get on. I'll bear you where you need to go.::_ __

 _Randen started to climb into the saddle, suddenly embarrassed by his ungainliness. He blushed to feel Derris's amused forgiveness washing over him. ::It's not like you've done this before. I promise to give it some time before I start judging your technique.::_ __

 _As he climbed up, his belt pouch crinkled and he froze. "Um...Derris...I was supposed to...I mean...my father..."_ __

 _::You have a duty, and you want to carry it out. That, dear heart, is one of the reasons I Chose you.::_ __

 _Years later, the memory of the look on the face of Master Chavish's servant as he accepted Randen's note, Derris posing behind him, never failed to make Randen smile._ __

 _"Derris...my parents will worry when I don't come back. And I was supposed to help tonight. They should know..."_ __

 _::We can go tell them. Somehow, I have a feeling your father will forgive your absence this evening.::_

##

"I heard words!" Ragnar said.

Randen opened his own eyes and smiled at Ragnar. "Part of the memory, I would guess. But it confirms my thought that the feeling of the memory has a lot to do with it.

"That is very normal as far as mindspeech goes. Let's see if you can ground and center."

Randen shifted his focus to see the boy's aura. To his surprise, Ragnar seemed perfectly centered and firmly grounded. There were none of the 'dissonances' that Kyril had told him to look for. He wondered how Ragnar had achieved it on his own.

"You seem to be well prepared for mind-gifts." He said. "Has anyone taught you these things before?"

Ragnar shook his head. "No, Spi – Herald – I never knew such existed before I came to Valdemar."

Some people were naturally centered, Randen knew, but other than Healers, they were very rare. He sent a query to Derris.

 _::He's not a Healer.::_ The Companion said _. ::He does think about things a lot, which could help him center. But it doesn't 'feel' like something that developed on its own.::_

"I am puzzled." Randen said at last. "I don't know how you learned to ground and center, but you are. I want you to move to your center."

His words baffled Ragnar. "What do you mean?"

Randen wondered how Ragnar could be so perfectly prepared yet not understand what it meant to be in his center. Patiently, he explained. "I want you to imagine yourself in the place that is you. The place inside your mind that is the center of everything that is Ragnar. Close your eyes and think of just being yourself."

"Oh, I see." Ragnar nodded. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He vanished from Randen's othersight.

Randen and Derris looked at each other, not believing what they were 'seeing'.

 _::Let me look closer.::_ Derris said. _::Warn him.::_

Randen tapped Ragnar on the arm. The boy opened his eyes.

"Ragnar, we do not understand how you are doing what you are doing. Derris would like to probe your mind to get a better idea. Is that ok?"

Ragnar looked at Derris. "I trust Spirit Horses."

Randen smiled at the boy's word choice. "Very good. I want you to go to that place again. You will probably sense Derris' presence in your mind. Try to stay calm."

Ragnar closed his eyes and centered. Once again, he 'vanished'. Gently, Derris began to probe his mind. Ragnar opened his eyes. They were unfocused, as though staring off into a great distance. It was the same look, Randen noted, that Heralds had when speaking to their Companions.

"I can feel Derris' presence." Ragnar said. His voice sounded calm, meditative. "He is _here_ , but it is as if there is a barrier between him and me."

 _::That is what I feel.::_ Derris said _. ::His mind is all around me, but I cannot sense 'Ragnar'. There is a block between him and me. It has been put there. I think it is intended to protect him. It feels like the kind of block that Heralds or Healers put up to protect them from a powerful gift. It has a benign aura to it and is definitely not a permanent block.::_

As Derris withdrew from his mind, Ragnar came out of his trance. "I know you were _there_." He said to Derris. "What did you see?"

"Derris saw exactly what you saw. There is a barrier in your mind. Someone put it there. We think it is there to protect you, but we have no idea why."

Ragnar was as perplexed as Randen and Derris. He could offer no explanation.

The Herald sighed. "We'll explore that more later. I think we should try practicing mindspeech a little, then move on to shielding. We'll start with you trying to speak to me with your mind. I want you to try to tell me something ordinary from your life in your clan – something that you don't do here – but without speaking aloud. _'Say'_ the words in your mind only."

There were no longboats in Valdemar, so Ragnar tried to ' _tell_ ' the Herald about his first rowing lessons.

Randen kept his shields down, receptive but not actively 'listening.' When he sensed Ragnar was done, he said "You said something about rowing: You and others learning how to work together and how your hands had blisters afterwards."

Ragnar confirmed Randen's statement. They practiced for half a candlemark more, with each 'sending' clearer than the last until Randen called a break. "You are learning. Rest a bit, then I'll try to show you how to shield."

Randen spent another candlemark working on the basics of shielding, beginning with telling Ragnar to think of an invisible 'wall' between himself and the rest of the world. He finally called a halt, explaining the hazards of gift-strain and telling Ragnar they would resume tomorrow.

"Now I want to ask about those visions of yours. The ones that weren't mind-images picked up from others. Let's start with that vision of the Forest of Sorrows yesterday."

Ragnar went over the vision, describing the three 'spirits' he had sensed, located far to the north. He spoke about his dreams of the Eagle and of Spirit Horses, especially the one where the two merged into one.

When he described the apparition of the Eagle the night he had cast the stones, Randen felt the hair rising on the back of his head. "You summoned the Eagle?" He asked.

"I did not summon him. He came." Ragnar said. He nodded at Derris. "He saw it. He was there."

Randen looked at Derris. "What? Why didn't you tell me?"

 _::I would have told you if you needed to know, but it was private. It was his to speak of, not mine.::_

Randen contemplated the Companion's answer for a moment. "I see. So the Eagle gave you a foresight?"

Ragnar shook his head. "No. I asked the Eagle for guidance. When I cast the stones, he showed me a path, not a future."

' _This is getting deeper all the time.'_ Randen thought to himself. Derris whickered in amusement and Randen shot him a sour glance. "Have you cast the stones since then?"

"No. There was no need. The Eagle has given me direction, now I must find my way myself."

Randen snorted. The boy sounded like the Priest of the Twain in his neighborhood of Haven. "Did you have any visions before you came to Valdemar?"

"No." Ragnar said. "Not even in my vision quest."

"Your what?"

"My vision quest." Seeing the Herald's blank look, Ragnar explained. "At the spring full moon before our initiation as warriors, we go to the Sacred Grove with the shaman. We fast for three days beforehand, then keep watch through the night for a vision to guide us."

Ragnar looked down. "I think I fell asleep. I remember nothing. I was the only one who had no vision. Kadir said nothing about it. He looked very worried."

 _##_

 _The rising sun shone in Ragnar's eyes. That was odd. Ragnar last remembered sitting on the eastern side of the circle. As his eyes focused, they met Kadir's eyes looking directly into his. The Shaman had been on the south of the circle, facing the Eye of the Eagle. When had he moved to sit in front of Ragnar?_

 _Kadir looked worried; his face showed deep concern. "Tell me of your vision." He demanded._

 _Ragnar froze. He remembered the beginnings of the chant, then nothing. He blushed with shame. He must have fallen asleep. At least he had not disgraced himself by falling over. "I – I had no vision. I think I must have slept." It was bad enough. He would not lie to the Shaman. Kadir would probably know if he lied._

 _Kadir's expression did not change. He nodded slowly. "Return to your lodge."_

 _Ragnar rose. The other boys had all left. From the dew in their footprints, they must have been gone well before the first light._

##

Randen sat quietly while Ragnar relived his memory. He did not probe the boy, nor ask him what he was thinking. From his face, the boy's thoughts were obviously distressing him.

"I am definitely out of my depth." Randen said. "I need help." _::Is Ylsa available?::_ He asked Derris. Ylsa's powerful mindspeech and knack for recognizing Gifts would be useful right now.

###

 _ **My thanks to Raelynn Daria Mayne for permission to use Herald Randen once again. She kindly wrote the description of Randen's Choosing included above.**_


	9. Chapter 9 - White and Blue

Chapter 9 – White and Blue

" _When one teaches, two learn." – Robert Heinlein_

Ylsa withdrew her probe from Ragnar's mind. "You've been making good progress on your mindspeech, lad. Just keep practicing." Aside to Adrian, she said. "Ask the Heralds coming through to work with him a little bit. It will help him steady and develop his mindspeech."

Ragnar smiled and nodded. He liked the idea of practicing with the Heralds. "Randen said I had other gifts. He said you would know what they are."

Ylsa sighed. "I'm sorry, but I don't." Ragnar frowned.

"One of them _looks_ like what some priests have. You have an awareness of the spirit world."

Randen looked surprised; Ragnar merely nodded. Ylsa smiled at her fellow Herald. "It's not a gift commonly found among Heralds. I talked to Kyril about rare gifts before I came. It does appear now and then among Heralds, but the few with it have had some of the weirdest experiences in the Chronicles. We know of it, but we really don't know what it is."

She looked back at Ragnar. "We don't know how to teach it, but it seems to develop on its own. If you had stayed among your people, I suspect you would be a shaman someday."

Ragnar perked up at Ylsa's words. To be a Shaman! That would be a wonder! Everyone respected the words of a Shaman, enigmatic though they might be. His face fell: He remembered where he was and how he had gotten here. Outcast, he could never be a Shaman. Covering his disappointment, he asked "What of the other gift? What can you tell me about that?"

Ylsa did not miss the signs of the boy's dismay. Randen and Emeric had told her about the Clans' attitude to captured warriors. She deduced the reasons for his upset. She hated to add more unwelcome news. "I do not know. From what I can sense, it feels like a gift I've seen in a few other Heralds and trainees, but none of them have ever used it or demonstrated it. We know it is there, but we don't know what it is. In your case, someone has put a block in your mind-channels that control that gift, there is no way to probe further without hurting you and possibly have it go rogue.

"I can tell the gift is very powerful. Whoever put the block in place has done so with good intentions. The block is not permanent and there are signs that triggers have been set that will release the block at need. It is there to protect you."

"How can something protect me from part of myself?" Ragnar asked.

"Let me tell you the story of Lavan Firestorm." Ylsa said. "The one from the Chronicles, not the popular tale." Gravely, Ylsa told the story of Lavan Chitward from the time he came to Haven until his death in the final strike at White Foal Pass. "So Lavan never had full control of his gift. He was always a danger to himself or to others."

"But he saved his own people." Ragnar said, focusing on Herald Lavan as a hero. He could think of no better reason to die.

"So he did." Ylsa conceded. "But until that moment, he could have destroyed everything he fought to save by losing control."

"How can I control my gift unless I know what it is?" Ragnar was unconvinced.

"A very good question. If I knew who set that block, I would ask him."

"Can't you give me a hint?" Ragnar was sure that someone must be able to help him.

"As I said, I've seen a few other Heralds with the same channels and, apparently, the same gift. None of them have manifested any strange new abilities. In fact, there's a Trainee named Rafe right now who has that same unknown gift. His is nowhere near as powerful as yours, though."

"Could he help me?" Ragnar asked.

Ylsa smiled sympathetically. "Rafe has no more idea about his mysterious gift than I do. Plus, he is still learning to handle the ones we do understand. Maybe the Companions could tell us."

Ragnar looked at the three Companions hopefully.

 _::It doesn't work that way.::_ Felara said.

Ylsa sighed. "Felara just reminded me that they don't interfere." She glanced at Randen and Adrian. "And it looks like Derris and Werra just said the same thing." The two men chuckled.

Ragnar closed his eyes and suppressed a sigh. They were so like the Eagle: Hinting and guiding, but not controlling. Werra nudged his shoulder and he stroked her muzzle.

Ylsa looked at Randen. "You have a knack for teaching, mindspeech in particular. We'll add you to the gift training rotation whenever you are at the Collegium. I guess that's why you get sent out with greenies every time."

Randen smiled back at her. "That. Plus the fact that I love field work. Having an intern makes it possible for me to keep on circuit. Anything more?"

"No. Just keep practicing with him. Once he's got those shields solid and can hold them constantly, you're pretty well done here."

She rose and stretched. Felara did the same. "As am I. Time to get back to Haven. Selenay, Joyeaus or Kyril are bound to have an urgent message to go somewhere."

In a quarter-candlemark, she was ready to leave. As she swung up on Felara's back, she smiled at Ragnar. "Don't worry, youngling. You will do fine."

Randen stayed another sennight to ensure that Ragnar had his mindspeech and shields under good control. The morning after he pronounced his work complete, he prepared to leave. In the light of a lantern, he smiled down at Ragnar. "If this good weather holds, we should be back in Haven before Sovran. Good luck." He offered his hand.

Ragnar reached up and shook Randen's hand. He stroked Derris' neck, digging his fingers into a favorite spot on the stallion's crest. Derris leaned into the scratching for a moment. He whickered softly and started moving.

There was only a hint of light in the east as they passed through the village. "Well, my friend, what do you think?"

 _::He's got good character and good control of his mindspeech. He'll do well.::_

"What about those other gifts?"

 _::As Ylsa said, that spirit-sensing gift is one that doesn't need teaching.::_

"And the other?"

 _::That one is worrisome. I'd like to see something better than that block put there by some unknown person.::_

"Which brings us to the white, blue-eyed, silver-hooved question: Why hasn't he been Chosen?"

 _::What makes you think he could be Chosen?::_

"You've been praising his character since you first met him. You helped him in a ritual. He has Heraldic gifts. Perry said Inetia likes him as well. When Ylsa told him about Lavan Firestorm, the only thing she left out was how Kalira controlled Lavan's gift, which is about as broad a hint that he needs a Companion as you can get. So why not?"

 _::He is not Valdemaran.::_

##

Ragnar watched Randen and Derris disappear into the pre-dawn gloom. He had mindspeech he was forbidden to use, a spirit-sensing gift he could not share with his people, and a mysterious gift which might destroy him and others. What could he do? He clutched the pouch of stones at his hip. The full moon was a few days away: The night the Heralds called Sovran. He must ask the Eagle for guidance.

For now, there were chores to be done. He went into the house.

##

Just as Ragnar finished his morning duties, Private Gyin Sands appeared in the courtyard. "Corporal Tilton is sending a bunch of us out to hunt some venison for our Sovran feast. Want to come along?"

Ragnar glanced eagerly at Adrian. The old Herald smiled and waved him towards the muleyard. "I'd love to!" He got to his feet and grabbed his jacket. Except for going into the village with Adrian a few times, Ragnar had not been off the waystation in three moons. Just wandering in the woods would be a treat.

Private Wen Clegg provided Ragnar with a bow and quiver – the same one he'd trained with at the archery range beside the barracks – and Ragnar set off with four guardsmen towards Midwinter Hill.

The five returned triumphantly less than three candlemarks later with two stags on a travois drawn by a small pony.

"He's amazing!" Wen Clegg said to Corporal Tilton, who was enjoying lunch with Adrian. "He led us to the deer like he had a map."

Ragnar blushed, enjoying the praise. He wasn't the best tracker in the clans by any means, but boys were taught to hunt from the time they could walk. "It was the middle of the day." He said. "They were bound to seek cover. There were rubbing branches all around those blackberry thickets; they were natural places for deer to go to ground. Besides, it was Wen and Pat's arrows that took them down."

Wen cuffed Ragnar on the shoulder. "Hah. We never would have gotten close. I couldn't believe the way you slid through those bushes without a sound. I couldn't even see the path you followed."

Ragnar shrugged. Years of training made the craft of tracking as natural as walking to him.

Corporal Tilton's eyes narrowed, his mind focused not on the successful hunt, but on Ragnar's skills. "Do you think you could teach us a bit of tracking and scouting?" He asked.

Ragnar was taken aback. "Me? But I'm still learning." He was no great tracker: Hagal and Togran had counted coup on him scores of times in their training. He still had much to learn.

"Learning or not, you still know more than any of us." The corporal said. The guard never sent professional scouts to support and logistics facilities like Gillhold, so Ragnar's presence was a golden opportunity for the detachment to improve their skills. Corporal Tilton would be a fool to waste it. "If the Herald will allow it, we'd like you to show us what you know."

Ragnar glanced eagerly at Adrian. "I think Ragnar needs to spread his wings a little." The Herald said.

Ragnar leaped into the air with joy. In his native tongue, he cried "I am the son of an Eagle!"

##

The bright moonlight filled the courtyard. Ragnar relaxed it the warm evening, staring up at the stars strewn across the sky. The moon would be full in three nights, then he would ask the Eagle for guidance. For now, he let his mind wander, recalling how he had come here, from the failed vision-quest to his blooding, from the disastrous raid to the prison in Watford. Strangest of all were the Spirit Horses: Lekaron, Derris, Inetia and Werra. He thought of the Spirit Horse that had come for the young man whose horse he had killed. He reached out, wondering what had drawn the 'Companion' to the young rider….

Danger! Pain! Fear! He saw the Companion falling, pierced by arrows in the midst of a great space surrounded by buildings. He saw the young man cradling the Companion's head as blood flowed out of its nostrils. The vision froze Ragnar. Others, including Heralds and Companions rushed to save the stricken one. A man and an older woman bent over the Companion, working their powers and pouring living energy into healing the wounds.

The crisis passed and the vision faded. The Companion, the Spirit Horse, was safe. As the world returned, Ragnar realized he was weeping. He sensed Adrian and Werra's disturbance. He rose and went into the house. The Herald hugged the Companion's neck; from Adrian's wan smile, Ragnar saw that they both knew all that had happened. Adrian's eyes widened as he realized that Ragnar had seen also.

##

"I thank you all for the fine Sovran feast." Adrian rose to his feet and nodded to Corporal Tilton and his men. Behind him, Werra got up as well; the guardsmen had brought one of the mattresses from Companions' Hall to accommodate the mare. After years sharing the farmstead and waystation with the Companion, they did not think of her as a 'horse.'

Ragnar covered his relief with effusive thanks to the guardsmen. He had enjoyed the feast but, as the night wore on, had fretted that he would miss the best time to cast the stones. It would have been awkward to excuse himself before the Herald, but Adrian had left early enough that Ragnar would have no trouble finding a good place for the working.

A dozen yards from the guards' mess hall, Adrian asked "Now what is it that you wish to do? Can Werra and I help?"

In the bright moonlight, Adrian could clearly see Ragnar's astonishment. He chuckled. "You have been glancing at the window for the last candlemark. You obviously had something you wanted to do. Randen told me that his Companion helped you with a ritual several moons ago. If we can help, we will."

As the old Herald spoke, Ragnar once again saw visions of a woman and a Spirit Horse coinciding with the physical presences of Werra and Adrian respectively. "Yes. Yes you can. I must cast the stones. I must find a place to do so."

The Herald glanced at his Companion. "Werra says she knows exactly what you need. It's a bit of a way, I hope you don't mind if I ride."

Ragnar stood beside Werra and put his arms around Adrian to boost him onto the Companion's back. Once the old Herald was securely on Werra's bare back, she led the way along a path behind the waystation. In a few hundred yards, they reached a clearing near where a creek flowed into the river. Twenty feet from the water's edge, Ragnar could sense a place of power. It was not as strong as the one at Watford and did not have the same purposeful feel, but it was a good place.

"Werra says these things tend to be near where streams join." Adrian said.

"Thank you." Ragnar said to the other two. Quickly, he swept the leaves and loose stones from the bare rock. A pair of white stones with glittering highlights caught his eye. He added them to his pouch. With a bit of charcoal from an old firepit nearby, he made a rough circle on the rock.

Unbidden, Werra took up a position on the east side of the circle and Adrian did so on the west. Ragnar settled on the south, facing the Eye. He poured the stones into his hands and held them out over the circle. He closed his eyes, waiting for the proper moment, and cast his mind out to the Eagle.

The wait stretched out, but he sensed no _presence._ Carefully, he opened his eyes. The north quadrant remained vacant. Glancing down, he saw his shadow reach the middle of the circle. He cast the stones.

He closed his eyes briefly before looking down at the stones scattered across the circle. He could see no pattern. Except for the pair of white stones he had just found, everything was a jumble. Even those two seemed to oppose each other purposelessly.

Ragnar stared at the stones a long time, striving to divine a meaning in the disorder. At last, he sighed and started gathering up the stones. Trying to hide his disappointment, he smiled slightly at Adrian and Werra. "Nothing. I can see nothing in the stones. I must have done something wrong."

"Maybe." Adrian said. "You need to look for answers within yourself." As he spoke, a ghostly eagle seemed to flicker around him. Ragnar flinched and looked away.

##

At first, Ragnar smothered his disappointment at the lack of guidance in the routine of the waystation and the guard detachment.

Under the corporal's instruction, his weaponswork improved to match the guardsmen. The corporal told him he should practice against the Heralds. "You've got good coordination, lad. You just need someone who can push you to a higher level." As the Heralds tended to arrive late and depart early, he seldom got the opportunity.

Ragnar was glad to repay the guardsmen by helping them with tracking and scouting, though he knew he was no expert. He spoke to Adrian about his self-doubts.

"Two things." The old Herald said. "First: You know much more than they do. Every little bit you pass on to them could make a difference. Second: In trying to teach them, you have to think about what you do know and what you don't. That will give you a better insight and improve your own skills."

Ragnar thought Adrian's first point was obvious, but the second one baffled him. It was not until many moons later that he realized the truth of the Herald's words and noticed the improvement in his own tracking.

With that realization came another: It was his responsibility to find his way. He had to decide, not the Eagle.

##

Just before Midwinter, Ragnar had another lesson, one more earthy and joyful.

As Randen and Ylsa recommended, Ragnar practiced mindspeech with most of the Heralds that came through, something that happened every few days.

Four days before Midwinter, a very young woman in a grey uniform rode into the yard on a Companion mare. She hopped down onto the pavement and turned to face Ragnar. "I'm Destria." She said. She gestured at her Companion. "And this is Sofi." Her smile dazzled Ragnar. Ragnar wondered what Sofi's chuckling whicker was about.

Her appearance and very forward self-confidence caught Ragnar off-guard. Flustered, he said. "I thought Heralds wore white." He blushed at his own awkwardness.

Destria laughed lightly. "They do. I am a Herald Trainee. Our uniforms are grey. We don't get our whites until we have completed our training." She did not ask why Ragnar did not know what every Valdemaran old enough to read knew. She smiled again. "Should we go in?"

Ragnar unfroze and led her and Sofi to Companions' Hall.

"I came ahead of the others." Destria said as they walked along. "My cousin is getting married just before Midwinter and I wanted to be there. The other trainees will be along in a couple of days." She smiled once more; Ragnar wondered why her smile unsettled him so pleasantly. Sofi snorted.

Ragnar showed her to one of the rooms. He offered to help untack Sofi. Destria smiled her thanks, saying she preferred to do so herself. Slightly dazed, Ragnar wandered back to the kitchen, where Adrian was enjoying a kava.

No other Heralds arrived that night, so Adrian, Destria and Ragnar dined in the kitchen of the house proper. Sofi shared Werra's stall while they ate, allowing the two Companions to keep them company.

During and after dinner, Destria and Adrian explained the Collegium to Ragnar, who quickly grasped why Valdemar would need a way to ensure all Heralds learned the laws properly. A kingdom was much larger than the clans, in both people and territory; it needed a standard system to ensure fairness.

When Destria said she had already been trained in mindspeech, Adrian suggested she practice with Ragnar. The two faced each other and lowered their shields.

Ragnar made contact with Destria's mind and immediately blushed scarlet. Destria grinned broadly. _::Let's keep it to tamer subjects.::_ She said. Sofi whickered loudly.

Carefully, the two told each other about themselves for the next half-candlemark, though both leaked thoughts that produced blushes and smiles. Adrian affected not to notice. Sofi's amusement was plain.

The session ended and they returned to normal conversation until Destria announced she was ready for bed. She and Sofi returned to their quarters off Companions' Hall.

Ragnar cleaned up the kitchen and the table. He banked the fire and put out the lanterns, save one that he took with him to Companions' Hall where he put out grain and hay for Sofi in the morning. Done, he picked it up once more to go back to his room.

"Won't you come in?" A soft voice asked behind him. He turned to see Destria in her night-dress smiling at him from her door. Ragnar swallowed hard.

###

Ragnar waved as Destria and Sofi disappeared in a swirl of snow the next morning. He stared after them until Sofi's hoofbeats faded in the distance. He shook himself and went into the house.

"I gather your night was enjoyable?" Adrian said as Ragnar entered. The Herald was obviously amused.

Ragnar froze. In the clans, either Destria's father would be demanding a bride-price or all of her male relatives would chase him down and kill him.

Adrian laughed at his expression. "Easy lad, I'm no angry father ready to cut your balls off. There are some things you need to understand. Sit down."

Gingerly, Ragnar sat across from the Herald.

"To begin with," Adrian said, "Heralds and Trainees tend to be much more sexually active than non-Heralds. I suspect your people are like most Valdemarans in their attitudes. But Heralds seldom have families. Their lives are busy and stressful and they have little time for themselves. Naturally, they try to make the most of the time they have and enjoy their pleasures to the fullest."

Adrian went on to explain the different attitudes to sex inside and outside the Heraldic circle in Valdemar.

"We often die young. That makes our little pleasures more urgent. The person you share your bed with tonight might not return from their next circuit. We love intensely, but know that we will have to carry on, often with no time to mourn, when a loved one dies.

"Most non-Heralds do not know or understand this, so we tend to keep our activities within our own circle. It is very unusual for one of us to look outside the circle. Destria must have found you very attractive."

Privately, Adrian wondered what it was that drew Destria to Ragnar. Werra said that Destria was already very active among the trainees. There were plenty of young men around handsomer and more experienced than the boy; she must have seen something in him.

Their discussion lasted all morning. Gradually, Ragnar relaxed. He was not in trouble. The experience with Destria had certainly opened his eyes; she had seen his nervousness and guided him carefully through his first sexual experience. It had been she that took the lead last night, not him. If the night had not been so pleasurable, he would have been exhausted.

Two nights later, a half-dozen trainees came through on their way home for their Midwinter break. They were too busy among themselves and only gave Ragnar passing smiles.

###

In the next year, Ragnar continued to learn, both from Adrian and from the guardsmen. Though he could see no particular need for the some of the subjects Adrian covered – why would he need Valdemaran history? – he enjoyed learning. The laws of Valdemar were incredibly complicated, but often seemed more just and fair than those of his own people. To Ragnar's surprise, geography and geometry lessons taught him to read maps, which improved his own tracking and scouting skills.

In addition to weapons practice, Corporal Tilton also taught Ragnar how to ride. Having learned to keep his feet on the deck of a longboat, Ragnar found balancing on the back of a mule no problem at all.

Ragnar was happy at Gillhold. His one worry was Adrian's declining health. He had come to love the old Herald as a second father; Ragnar watched with concern as Adrian visibly aged. Adrian tried to stay active, though his strain was obvious.

###

Midwinter arrived again and the usual flock of trainees going home and Heralds returning to Haven flowed through the waystation; Adrian still greeted them as they arrived, but most of the chores now fell on Ragnar.

Two sennights after Midwinter, Adrian told Ragnar to ready two rooms for Heralds arriving that night. Ragnar came out of Companions' Hall as they spoke to Adrian.

Adrian looked at him over one Herald's shoulder. "I'll have my assistant show you to your rooms."

The Herald turned around. He and Ragnar stared at each other in amazement. Seeing the tension between the two, Adrian asked "Do you two know each other?"

"He killed my father." Ragnar said.

The faces of Adrian and the other Herald showed their shock. The first Herald gulped. "I am sorry for you. I do not want to kill anyone's father or son. Will you forgive me?" He held out his hand.

Ragnar took a deep breath. He took the Herald's hand. "My father died in battle, as a warrior should. I seek no more revenge."

"Nor do I. Allow me to introduce my Companion, Losanir." Kensie gestured at the other Herald. "This is Herald Bredin Kase and his Companion Lacaral."

By now, Ragnar was used to the visions of people blending with the bodies of the Spirit Horses when he first met them. In Losanir's place, the manifestation was of a huge man, massively muscled. Ragnar sensed the man laughed a great deal. In Lacaral's place, he saw a man of more normal stature, but his face was so like the other's that Ragnar was sure they must be brothers.

"Are they brothers?" He asked, pointing at the Companions.

His question bemused them both. "Yes. Lacaral is Losanir's brother." Bredin said. "How did you know?"

"Their spirits are alike." Ragnar said. He had no idea how to explain his vision.

Bredin and Kensie looked at each other and shook their heads. They shrugged. Lacaral and Losanir whickered, but said nothing to their Chosen. Instead of asking further, Bredin looked up at the snowflakes drifting down. "We'd better get inside."

Ragnar led them into Companions' Hall and showed them their rooms. Instead of leaving them to care for their Companions themselves, Ragnar stayed to help untack the Companions, particularly Losanir. Losanir seemed amused by Ragnar's zealous attention.

After dinner, the four sat together for the evening. Adrian asked each of them to mindspeak Ragnar for a short while, explaining that he needed practice. Bredin and Kensie mindspoke Ragnar for half a candlemark, telling him about their lives before they had been Chosen.

Ragnar noticed their common connection to Bransat; he wondered why neither spoke about seeing or meeting the other. When he asked directly if they had known each other beforehand, both admitted it, saying their social rank had meant they moved in different circles. Ragnar noticed their equivocations and the tension between them. They obviously disliked one another, so why were they working together? He could not think of no polite reason to ask them, but he deduced their superiors had arranged the joint circuit to force them to reconcile their differences.

After a half-candlemark of mindspeech practice, they returned to spoken conversation for the rest of the evening. Bredin and Kensie retired early, knowing they had to be on the road once more in the morning.

Ragnar left feed for the Companions for the morning and retired to his own room. He lay awake a long time, thinking about the two young men. If he were Valdemaran, he thought, he would want to be a Herald.


	10. Chapter 10 - Tellings

Chapter 10 – Tellings

" _Those things that nature denied to human sight, she revealed to the eyes of the soul." - Ovid_

Ragnar stood in the yard watching Bredin and Kensie ride away. The lantern's light reflected off the Companions' brilliant white coats until they disappeared around the curve. Ragnar continued to stand in the cold air until the last hoofbeats faded in the distance. He strained his ears until not even his imagination could convince him he could hear them.

He sighed and lowered his lantern. He stared up at the cold, clear light of the stars. With no moon to light the sky, they shone brilliantly. His gaze wandered to the Eye of the Eagle, wondering what lay ahead. Since the night Adrian and Werra aided him, he had tried twice more to cast the stones, but still found nothing to guide him.

His own thoughts were confused; he could find no direction from within. Adrian repeatedly told him to be patient, that understanding would come with experience and he would find his own way. He trusted the old Herald, but worried nevertheless.

For a year and a half, he had seen Heralds and Trainees pass through the waystation. They radiated confidence and competence. Even the Trainees, for all that they were still learning, wore a sense of purpose: They would do things and go places.

Heralds Bredin and Kensie. These two disturbed him. Outwardly, they were as poised and able as any of the scores of other Heralds he had seen, but the tension between the two was obvious. He had come to the conclusion that Heralds were more than ordinary – after all, they rode Spirit Horses – and inherently good people. Why couldn't two such people get along?

A puff of wind blew through the yard, raising a spray of snow from the ground and making him shiver. With a final glance at the starry blackness above, Ragnar went back into the house. There were chores to be done.

Adrian was not up yet, so Ragnar worked quietly. The aging Herald was sleeping longer and needed frequent naps during the day. Sometimes, he even fell asleep while questioning Ragnar about the books he had given him to read. Ragnar worried about the old man, whom he had come to love as a second father. Ragnar bit his lip and tried to be positive. Adrian's fond smiles showed that he appreciated Ragnar's concern.

Werra also showed signs of aging. The Companion was losing weight and increasingly stiff. Her coat was less glossy and the hairs brittle. Ragnar had taken over grooming her; she would give her thanks by softly touching her nose to his face.

Though his birth clan might think his duties menial and degrading, Ragnar enjoyed helping at the waystation. There was a peace to the regular chores and duties. He took real pleasure in being around the Companions and their Heralds. Their presence reassured him: If they could find a purpose, surely Ragnar could find one.

He heard the soft sounds of Adrian getting up. He poured a cup of kava for the Herald and left it beside Adrian's plate. Werra was waking as well; going to her stall, he put out her grain and hay and filled a bucket with warm water. By the time he returned to the kitchen, Adrian was seated at the table.

As Ragnar took his own seat, Adrian said "Thank you, Ragnar. I appreciate your little kindnesses." He took a sip of kava. Ragnar knew that the old man did not like to eat alone, so he had put off his own breakfast until Adrian was ready.

The two ate quietly, enjoying the simple meal of eggs and bread. After a few sunwidths, Adrian broke the silence. "So, what do you think of our two young king-stags?"

Ragnar choked on his bread, then laughed. The description was too perfect: Each of them head-high, watching the other closely, bodies tense, treading carefully and ready to lock horns at any moment. From her stall, Werra snorted loudly.

Ragnar thought carefully before he spoke; he did not want to criticize Heralds, even obliquely. "They are both good men. I do not understand why they dislike one another. Why can they not get along? That is why their captains put them together, isn't it? To make them recognize the good in each other and make peace?"

His insight surprised Adrian. "The Dean of the Collegium – we don't have captains, just a few experienced Heralds who organize things – did put them together for precisely the reason you suggest. At least, so Werra tells me. Don't you think it strange that two good young men, both worthy and able, should not get along, especially when they are dedicated to the same purpose?"

"That is what confuses me." Ragnar admitted. "I sense they are good men. But there is anger and pride that drives them apart. It does not seem right."

"Why do you think that might be?" Adrian asked.

Here, Ragnar felt surer. "They knew each other before. They said they came from the same village. The one – Kensie – said he was a Baron. The other – Bredin – must have been one of his thralls."

"We don't have serfdom in Valdemar," Adrian corrected. "Kensie may have been his overlord, but he did not own Bredin. People are free to come and go as they please."

Ragnar paused. His understanding of Valdemar was growing, but by no means equal to that of a person who had lived in the kingdom for all their life. "But even so," Ragnar said, "Kensie outranked Bredin. An overlord can make life very unpleasant for those beneath him. Especially when they are both young boys and one takes pleasure in bullying the other." Ragnar could remember boys in the Eagle Clan who enjoyed picking on others; he felt a twinge of guilt over some of the teasing he had done.

Adrian's eyebrows shot up again. Ragnar kept surprising him with his astute observations, unexpected in one so young.

 _::I think it's that spirit sense again.::_ Werra said _. ::He instinctively sees what drives people, how they act and why.::_

"When someone has rank and power, it can be very tempting to flaunt it and abuse it." Adrian acknowledged. "And the anger and resentment can linger for years after." He looked speculatively at Ragnar. "But I think the source of your confusion is how Heralds can be like that."

Ragnar paused. "Yes. You seem better than ordinary people. You ride Spirit Horses – you call them Companions – but I can _see_ that they are more than what they seem. It seems wrong that two of you should be enemies."

Werra snorted. Adrian chuckled at the vehemence in Ragnar's voice, drawing a flash of irritation from the young man. "If you knew the number of times we have to tell non-Heralds that Companions are not horses, you would know why I find it funny when you insist they are not. You've heard the story of how Companions came to Valdemar. Every Herald knows that story and knows the truth of it, even though some dismiss it as a fable. We live with our Companions in our hearts every day. We know they are more than mortal creatures, even though they can be killed.

"But Heralds are human beings first and, like others, we have our faults and flaws. We have to grow up and learn. We do not know _why_ the Companions Choose us or what they see in us, but we know that we aren't perfect. We have our quirks and our prejudices, our likes and dislikes and we even bear grudges.

"Those two," Adrian nodded at the door, "have old scores. As you say, they are good people. They have to put aside their past and see the good in each other. As you said, they need to make peace."

Ragnar sighed. There was sense in what Adrian said. Yet Bredin and Kensie still troubled him. He pushed away from the table. "I suppose I better get about my chores."

###

It was too cold that afternoon to spend a long time outdoors, so Ragnar and the guardsmen cut the tracking practice short. Nor was it wise to work up a hard sweat in the outdoor practice yard. Ragnar tried to read one of the books Adrian assigned, but found himself too distracted to concentrate and could scarcely make coherent responses to the Herald's questions.

When he heard Adrian dozing softly, he closed the book and lay it on the table. ' _What will I do? What can I do? How can those two come right?'_ He thought to himself.

He pulled the pouch of stones from his belt and poured them into his hand. He toyed with them idly, running them through his fingers. _'What will become of them?'_ Frustrated, he tossed the stones on the table.

Ragnar leaped to his feet, knocking his chair over. He stared open-mouthed at the stones. The two glittering white stones were together, menaced by the ominous black stone. Worse, he could see a menace from behind, a treacherous betrayal. The winged stone stood aside, as though only able to watch the outcome and helpless to intervene.

Adrian, woken by the sounds, looked up sharply. "What's the matter?" He asked. He glanced at the stones on the table. "Have you _seen_ something?"

Ragnar pointed at the two stones. "Those two. Betrayal. Others. Their own against them."

"Maybe if you took a sunwidth to organize your thoughts, I might understand what you are trying to say." Adrian said mildly.

The Herald's mild rebuke settled Ragnar. His finger still pointed at the two white stones. "The casting stones tell me that those two are in danger. They will face an evil one, but there is evil behind them as well."

Adrian understood immediately that Ragnar meant Bredin and Kensie. "What sort of danger? Who are their evil enemies?"

Ragnar bit his lip and shook his head. "I don't know. I can't tell. The one they face comes from outside. The ones behind" – he shook his head again – "are those who should be with them, but they help the one outside."

Adrian stroked his jaw. "Karse has long been our enemy. They are working along the border with Karse. That would explain the enemy from outside. As for traitors inside Valdemar, there have always been a few who have taken Karsite gold. Can you be more specific?"

"No! No! I can't tell." He reached for the stones, ready to cast them again.

Adrian held up a hand to stop him. "Foresight and Insight do not work that way!" He said sharply. "If you try to force them, you will only get your own fears and fancies, not truth. Think about what you see in the stones, do not try to see what isn't there."

Ragnar's shoulders slumped and he pulled back his hands. He took a deep breath. "I saw what I told you." He spoke softly. "They are in danger. They have enemies before and behind. There is nothing I can say or do to help." He looked up at the Herald, tears of frustration in his eyes. "I wish I could say more, Senior, but I can't."

Adrian's lips twitched as Ragnar addressed him as a young Herald would an older, more experienced Herald. "That is the way of such things, youngster. We take what we are given and do what we can with it. Accept what is, do not worry about what cannot be."

Ragnar nodded his head. He picked up the chair and sat down once more. He stared morosely at the stones before him.

"Do they tell you when the danger will come?" Adrian asked.

"The danger is now." Ragnar said. "When it will strike, I cannot tell."

Adrian smiled inwardly once more. The boy's ambiguous words reminded him of many 'wise men' he had spoken to. "We can send along your warning. We can tell them you have foreseen danger, possibly coming out of Karse and that their enemy may have help from inside Valdemar. It is the best we can do."

"I suppose so." Ragnar began to scoop up the stones and return them to the pouch.

"Whatever possessed you to cast the stones just now? I thought you only did that at the full moon?"

Ragnar looked sheepish. "The Shamans can cast the stones at need, but it is best to do it when Ayawin shows her full face. But I wasn't trying to cast. I was thinking about those two while holding the stones in my hand. Nothing came to me and I just threw them for no reason."

 _::It is not wise to play with the tools of the Gods.::_ Werra commented wryly.

Adrian repeated what she said. Ragnar grinned. After hanging the pouch on his belt once more, he went over and kissed her on the nose.


	11. Chapter 11 - Time and Chance

Chapter 11 – Time and Chance

" _Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before, advanced a stage or two upon that road which you must travel in the steps they trod."_ _― Unknown_

Through the winter, Adrian spent more and more time resting, gradually becoming frailer. By the middle of the second moon, he could do little more than greet the arriving Heralds and join them at their meals; rarely did he rise in time to see them leave in the morning. The village healer, Zascha Austrebon, began making regular visits to 'look in'.

Ragnar took on more and more of the keeping of the waystation and resupply depot, seeing to the needs of the visiting Heralds and Companions. He noted the sad looks they exchanged when Adrian dozed off in the middle of conversations. When a blizzard trapped Heralds Tyler and Keva at the waystation in the first sennight of the second moon, the two of them took Ragnar aside.

"You know he is dying, don't you?" Tyler said softly. Ragnar closed his eyes and nodded, acknowledging the blunt fact.

"If we get warning," Tyler said, "some of us will come a few days before to keep him company at the end."

"It may come suddenly, though." Keva said. "You must be prepared for either possibility and know what to do."

Gently but factually, the two Heralds explained what Ragnar needed to do. They explained he would need to maintain the waystation alone until a new, permanent caretaker could be found.

Ragnar slept poorly that night, dreading the impending loss and wondering what would become of him. Should he ask to be the permanent keeper of the waystation? It was a comfortable, secure place. He loved meeting the Companions and the Heralds and being around them. He tried to examine it as a shaman would. No, he decided regretfully. He liked it here, but there was more for him to do. When his sentence was done and Adrian was gone, he would leave.

By the beginning of the third moon, Adrian needed Ragnar's help to rise from his bed. The next day, the Healer Zascha arranged for a day and night watch over the failing Herald. Ragnar devoted as much time as he could to caring for Adrian. Ragnar did all he could for Werra: Getting to her feet was now so difficult for the Companion that she no longer lay down to rest.

Two days later, a trio of Heralds arrived: Mirilin, Teren and Rebecca. Rebecca Gill was Adrian's sister; the two men had interned with Adrian. They helped the elderly Rebecca make the journey from Haven in gentle stages. Several more Heralds arrived over the next few days.

###

Ragnar bit his lip as he picked up the tray from Adrian's bedside. Adrian had eaten only a few bites of bread and the preserved fruit. He opened the door to take the tray back to the kitchen.

"Ragnar, please come here." Adrian's voice was a raspy whisper. Ragnar put down the tray and sat by the bed. Adrian pulled his withered hand from beneath the sheets; in his palm there was a braided white cord with a pendant attached.

"Something to remember us by." Adrian said. "The hair is Werra's. Rebecca braided it for me. I'm afraid my fingers aren't nimble enough anymore."

With trembling fingers, Ragnar took the cord and pendant. He glanced at the pendant, which was a silver eagle, wings outstretched. Its eyes were tiny blue gemstones. In the middle of the eagle's breast, there was a tiny white lozenge bearing the Windrider sigil.

Fighting back tears, Ragnar closed his eyes and kissed the old man on the forehead. "Thank you." He said. He sat with Adrian, who stories of his life on circuit until he drifted off to sleep once more. When Ragnar looked around, Rebecca and several other Heralds were standing in the room. Ragnar quickly gave Rebecca his seat and took the tray back to the kitchen.

Adrian slept the rest of the day. In the evening, his breathing became more ragged and irregular. The Heralds took turns keeping watch over him and Ragnar looked in regularly. Ragnar noticed that Werra was not in her stall. Going out into the field, he found her laying down with the other Companions keeping watch over her. He fetched a blanket and put it over her. She lifted her head and nodded her thanks.

Ragnar could not eat breakfast the next morning. He stood at the back in Adrian's room, behind the Heralds who gathered round his bed. At midmorning, Adrian opened his eyes. "Take me to Werra." He gasped out. Half a dozen Heralds gently lifted the mattress under Adrian and carried him out to the field, laying him down beside the Companion.

Werra whickered softly as her Chosen stroked her cheek.

Adrian opened his eyes wide. "Ragnar!" He whispered. The gathered Heralds looked around. Spotting Ragnar, they let him through to kneel beside Adrian. "I see … I see … Eagle for you."

Ragnar stared at him, not understanding.

The old man smiled and closed his eyes. He stroked Werra's neck once more and kissed her nose. Their breathing stopped. A moment later, Ragnar sensed something. It felt like the tolling of a great bell.

###

The funeral for Adrian and Werra took place two days later. They were buried together in a special section of the village graveyard reserved for Heralds and Companions. Most of the village turned out for the service. Duke Marduk from Three Rivers attended as well as most of the officers of the guard stationed in Three Rivers.

After the funeral, the Heralds returned to the waystation for their own private memorial. Ragnar was the only non-Herald present and felt somewhat out of place. Even though the Heralds made a point of speaking to him, their solicitousness felt forced and awkward.

Just before dinner, Heralds Teren and Rebecca drew Ragnar aside. "What was it that Adrian said to you, just before he died? What did he say he saw for you? I heard something like 'mixika.'"

Ragnar looked at Teren in surprize. "He said he saw an eagle – or maybe 'the Eagle' – for me."

"Oh." Teren looked uncertain. "I didn't hear 'eagle'. I heard 'mixika', or something like that."

Ragnar stared at Teren for a moment. He recalled Adrian's last words. His eyes went wide. Adrian had not said 'eagle'. At least not in Valdemaran. He had said "mikizi" _ *****_ , which was 'eagle' in the language of the Clans. He explained to the two Heralds.

Teren and Rebecca raised their eyebrows. "My brother had one very odd minor gift." Rebecca said. "We call it 'kenning', which means he _knew_ something without any explanation of _how_ he knew. His mindspeech was minor and he didn't have farsight or foresight, so there was nothing to tell him of what he knew to be. Simply, he often _knew_ something that no one told him or _knew_ what had to be done. There was no explanation for it, but his kennings were invariably correct."

She looked Ragnar in the eye. "So what did he mean about seeing an Eagle?" She asked.

Ragnar had no idea. "It could mean that I return to my Clan, but I don't see how that is possible." He explained how he was _salach_ to his own people and would not be welcomed back.

Rebecca looked at him curiously. "Would you go back if you could?"

Ragnar opened his mouth to answer 'Of course' but he stopped before he spoke. He wanted to see his people again. He wanted to feel the longboat surging over the waves. He remembered the joys of his boyhood in the Clan. However, Adrian's teachings had made him think about the dark side of clan life. He remembered the weeping of the newly enslaved. He remembered the casual indifference to the women. He remembered the brutal beatings of the thralls for minor offenses; some had died of those beatings. There was no justice for the weak and defenseless.

"I'm not sure." He said at last.

###

The Heralds left over the next two days and Ragnar remained alone in the waystation. They promised a new caretaker would arrive within a few sennights. "It probably won't be a Herald." Teren warned. "More likely, it will be a former guardsman who really likes Companions."

To escape the loneliness, Ragnar spent most of his days practicing with the guardsmen or reading. He no longer had Werra to warn him when Heralds or Trainees would arrive, but each Herald or group of Heralds could usually tell him if any of their fellows would come through within the next few days. Some Heralds did arrive without warning, so Ragnar always made sure that several of the rooms were ready at all times.

He was unaware that the Companions always let their Chosen know how he missed Adrian and Werra. The Heralds made a point of including Ragnar in their conversations and continuing to practice mindspeech with him. Ragnar enjoyed the Heralds' company and especially looked forward to meeting their Companions. If the Herald was alone, Ragnar would ask if he could help groom the Companion. Invariably, the Companion would whicker happily and the Herald would let him know that his offer was welcome. Grooming the Companions would lift Ragnar's spirits and allow him to hold his feelings of loss at bay.

It was a newly Chosen trainee that finally brought Ragnar out of his malaise. Niki Laver and her Companion Ullok arrived at the waystation without warning two sennights after the funeral.

Ragnar heard the chiming of Ullok's hooves on the cobbles of the yard and hurried out to see who it was. The sight of a girl in ordinary clothes on a Companion's back surprised him. It took him a moment to realize she must be newly Chosen. The Heralds had told him of the possibility of a new-Chosen arriving at the waystation; that the new-Chosen would not be in uniform and that they would be uncertain. They had also told him what to say and, more importantly, what not to say.

Niki looked around from her perch on Ullok's back. She looked perplexed. "Is this a waystation? The guard told me Ullok would take me to waystations every night."

"This is the waystation at Gillhold." Ragnar assured her. "I am Ragnar and I am keeping the waystation until a new permanent keeper arrives."

"Oh, I see." Niki said. She moved to dismount and moaned slightly. "I am so stiff. Can you help me down?"

Ragnar moved to Ullok's side and gently supported her as she dismounted. When her feet were on the ground, he noticed she was barely chest-high to him. She looked very young.

Supporting herself on Ullok's side. Niki stretched her legs. "I think I can walk now."

Ragnar led her to Companions' Hall. She raised her eyebrows when he held the door for Ullok. "It is alright. Come in and you will see." He took her to one of the rooms on the 'girls' side. Niki was delighted that Ullok's stall was right beside her room and she could see him over the half-door between the room and the stall.

He helped her untack and groom Ullok. "I've never ridden anything before." She said. "Until he came to the school this morning, I've never been this close to a horse." Ullok pinned his ears and snorted.

With a superior smile, Ragnar said "One of the few things I've learned about Companions is that they don't like to be called horses."

"Oh, I am so sorry Ullok." She hugged the Companion's neck. Ullok nuzzled her affectionately.

Niki paid careful attention as they cared for the Companion. She noted how each piece of tack fit on Ullok, holding it in place to fix the placement and attachments in her mind before carefully putting it away. As they curried and brushed his coat, her strokes became firmer and more confident. Ragnar stood back and let her finish the grooming herself, smiling at Ullok's grunts of pleasure.

Done, she stretched and winced. "I am so sore. I need a bath, too."

Ragnar showed her where the soap and towels were kept and pointed down the hall to the bathing room. He handed her a bottle of liniment. He watched her go down the hall and nodded at Ullok before going to prepare dinner. As he turned to go, Ullok winked at him.

At dinner, Niki told Ragnar how Ullok had Chosen her in the town of Loningen that morning. "I was in my class at the Temple of the Twain when Ullok came to the school door on the side. He just stood there, waiting. Father Quires realized Ullok must be on Search, so he brought all of the boys out of their classes. When Ullok didn't Choose any of them, Mother Suttel brought all the girls out. Ullok just pushed through the other girls and Chose me." Her smile as she remembered the moment was beatific.

Until Ullok came, Niki had never been more than a mile from the town wall and had never ridden anything. Her father was a cobbler and prosperous enough that he'd allowed his daughter to stay in school past the mandatory age of twelve. "I'm only thirteen," Niki said "and papa promised he wouldn't find a husband for me until I was sixteen."

She sighed. "I really don't know why Ullok Chose me and not my brother. Clay is so much smarter and stronger than I am."

Ullok snorted emphatically. Ragnar grinned. "Why don't you ask Ullok how he feels about it?"

Niki looked around at the Companion lying on the mattress behind her. She slipped off her chair and hugged Ullok's neck. She closed her eyes and concentrated. After a few moments, she kissed the Companion's head and said "You are so sweet!"

Returning to her chair, she looked at Ragnar with a smile. "Ullok said I was the only one for him." With a sheepish look, she added. "I have to touch him and concentrate to hear what he is saying to me. He says my mindspeech will get better with practice."

Ragnar thought of telling her that he could mindspeak, but Ullok caught his eye and shook his head vigorously. Instead, he told her about the waystation and what he did here, explaining that most waystations were little more than snug huts in the woods.

They continued to speak well into the evening. Her eyes widened when she learned that he was a warrior of the Clans and had been taken prisoner after a failed raid.

"If the Heralds decided you were a good person, you are a good person." Niki said firmly. "They wouldn't have spared you otherwise." Her simple faith and confidence brought a smile to Ragnar's face. Ullok winked at him over her shoulder.

Ullok called an end to the evening by getting to his feet and nodding in the direction of her room. With a yawn, Niki put her hand on the Companion's shoulder and left the table.

Niki and Ullok left a candlemark after sunrise. She and Ragnar waved cheerfully at each other until the Companion disappeared around the bend. Ragnar felt very happy for her.

###

Five days later, Shanis Rains arrived as the new caretaker for the waystation. Herald Quenton, the duty Herald at the Three Rivers guard division, brought Shanis and introduced her to Ragnar.

As soon as Quenton and Onial disappeared around the bend. Shanis turned to Ragnar and said "Quenton told me you were a pirate. I spent thirty years in the guard fighting pirates and other scum. I've not got much use for that kind, but Quenton told me that the Companions spoke for you. Companions are better people than anybody else I know, so you must be alright. Do as I say and we'll have no problems."

Ragnar soon learned that the blunt-spoken former sergeant was efficient and smart. She was fair and always asked the reasons for the routines. Once she learned the operation, she made a few changes that Ragnar found logical.

For her part, Shanis watched Ragnar closely and soon decided the young man was decent and honorable.

Initial caution turned to respect and blossomed into friendship when they discovered their mutual love for Companions. Shanis' frosty exterior melted into a glowing smile whenever a Companion appeared in the courtyard. She addressed them like highborn nobles come to visit. When she learned that Ragnar thought of them as 'Spirit Horses', she began to tell him of her experiences with Heralds and Companions in the guard. When no Heralds and Companions visited the waystation, Ragnar enjoyed evenings listening to her tales, which she told while teaching him chess.

In one respect, Shanis Rains was every bit the tough soldier that Ragnar feared: She took over weapons training for Ragnar and the guardsmen stationed at the breeding facility. She came to watch Ragnar and Corporal Tilton's men drilling in the practice yard. None of them were paying attention to her, so they were unprepared when she exploded after a few sunwidths. "What in the nine hells are you doing?" She raged. "You're dropping your shields and poking at each other like you were knitting." Grabbing a practice sword and shield, she demonstrated her point against a hapless Wen Clegg, driving the private relentlessly across the practice yard until he tripped over the edge of the ring.

Corporal Tilton, recognizing her superior knowledge and skill, happily turned the training over to her. Ragnar, initially taken aback by her ferocious drills, soon rose to her demands; his skills rapidly improved under her instruction. Corporal Tilton's men were less impressed and complained to division headquarters in Three Rivers.

Captain Eloi Chretien, who was the nominal superior to Corporal Tilton, arrived a sennight later to observe. Within a sunwidth, Captain Chretien was smiling; by the time the training session was over, he was grinning ear to ear. "She's the best thing that ever happened to you lazy buggers." He proclaimed. "From now on, former Sergeant Rains is in full control of your weapons practice. Any deviation from her orders during practice will be treated as insubordination." He laughed at the looks of dismay on the faces of the complainers.

He turned to Shanis. "Sergeant, I would love to hear of your experiences. Will you join me for lunch at the village inn?"

Herald Quenton had briefed Shanis Rains on Ragnar teaching tracking to the guardsmen at Gillhold. Even some of the guardsmen at Three Rivers had come to Ragnar for instruction. From her own experience, Shanis knew of the desperate need for scouts and trackers in the guard. She had seen the letter from Captain Tewkes-Felthan asking Adrian to let Ragnar know of the need and requesting he enlist as an auxiliary.

Planning a cautious approach, Shanis tried to 'casually' raise the subject during one of their evening conversation-and-chess sessions. She moved her king back to the home row, between her priest and her castle. "Corporal Tilton tells me you are an expert tracker." She said.

Ragnar studied the position. "He wants me to become a scout for the guard." He said. He moved his pawn from King's Priest six to seven. "Check"

The pawn was defended. Shanis could not take it with her king. Reluctantly, she moved her king one row forward. "So what do you want?" She asked.

Ragnar knew his move already. "I've thought about it. I can't go back to my Clan. There is barely enough work here for one of us, so I'm not really needed. I have no trade and no property. I don't really have any other option." He moved his priest from Queen four to Queen's Priest five. "Checkmate."

Shanis Rains raised her eyebrows. She hadn't seen either coming. The boy continued to impress her.

###

A few nights after midsummer, Ayawin showed her full face again. Tomorrow, Corporal Tilton would take him to Three Rivers, where he would join a supply convoy heading south to Redruth. He had said his goodbyes to Shanis Rains and the guardsmen that evening. They had gifted him with a fine steel dagger. The hilt had a blue-eyed eagle on one side and the Windrider sigil on the other.

The dagger was on his hip as he walked to the spot where he had attempted to cast the stones with Adrian and Werra two years before. There were no questions he needed answers to; he felt no doubts about his decision. But he was at a cusp in his life. It was only proper to consult the Eagle.

He reached the place of power. As he took his position, he felt a surge from the pendant on his chest and the cord of Werra's braided hair around his neck. It was as if Adrian and Werra were smiling. He smiled and touched the pendant.

He picked up the pouch and cupped the stones in his hands. He closed his eyes and breathed a prayer. This time, he did feel an otherworldly wind. He did not open his eyes, sure that the Eagle was present. He cast the stones.

He opened his eyes. The Eagle's blue eyes looked into his before it vanished. Did it flicker into a horse-shape before it disappeared?

Ragnar looked down at the stones. There was nothing unexpected. In the south, the black stone still menaced the two glittering stones, though the tension between them had eased. There was still menace from behind. The winged stone could only observe, but now it had a sense of purpose. There was also a white stone approaching it.

Ragnar smiled. He was on the right path.

 _ ***[Author's note. 'Mikizi' (Pronounced Mĭ - kĭz – ĭ) is the Algonquin word for eagle.]**_


	12. Chapter 12 - In Service

Chapter 12 – In Service

 _"There's the right way, the wrong way, and the army way" – Traditional Military Proverb_

Before Ragnar left Gillhold, Shanis Rains saw to it that he got a properly fitting pair of boots and broke them in. "You'll be doing a lot of walking. You won't get far if your feet are killing you." The boots felt clumsy at first, but once they were broken in, Ragnar preferred them to his moccasins. She also warned him about some of the points of 'military tradition,' otherwise he might have given up within two moons.

Captain Clagett commanded the convoy of supplies and recruits going to Redruth. He remembered Ragnar from two years before. Herald Quenton briefed Captain Clagett when Ragnar joined the convoy at Three Rivers. The Captain knew of the need for scouts. He also knew that good scouts were the worst 'fit' when it came to military order: Their independence and initiative meant that they frequently clashed with commanders who insisted on order and conformity. Rather than have Ragnar march with the rankers, Captain Clagett allowed Ragnar to choose his own place in the column.

The Captain's stratagem worked: By the third day, Ragnar was marching in step with Ensign Janos Pulver's squad. Captain Clagett suspected Ragnar connected with Ensign Pulver because of Janos' somewhat non-conformist attitude and indifference to rank, which earned the young ensign frequent reprimands. Captain Clagett would have bet crowns to groats that Baron Pavel had encouraged his second son to join the guard in order to get Janos out of the home. Janos' magnificent black Ashkevron war stallion by the famous sire Nightfall Thundersong was likely a gift to speed Janos on his way.

The Captain's deduction was partly true: Ragnar found the easygoing ensign good company, but his true reason was that he thought the name of Janos' horse, Night's Eagle, a good omen in light of Adrian's last words. Ragnar took on unofficial duty as the stallion's groom.

The journey south took nearly three sennights. As much as any of the troopers, Ragnar cursed the heat of midsummer and the dust of the road. He was accustomed to the moist air of the Great Water and the cool spray as a longboat cut through the water. At Gillhold, he had been able to seek the shade and rest on hot days; the supply column marched on in the blazing heat.

The only respite from the heat were the thunderstorms. Captain Clagett and his officers would watch the thunderheads building in the west. When experience told them that a storm was imminent, they would seek shelter or find low ground. There were no incidents during the journey, but the thunder and wind frightened the horses. Ragnar helped Ensign Janos calm Night's Eagle and the young officer made his gratitude plain.

Forewarned by the lookout, Colonel Chase met them at the gate. As the convoy marched in, she spotted Ragnar immediately. Ragnar saw her frown and guessed she was unhappy to see him. She was, but not in the way he thought. He found out why after encountering two of the 'military traditions' that Shanis Rains had warned him about.

The first was 'Hurry up and wait.' Ragnar did not have time to find a bunk before Sergeant Kelding ordered him to report to the Colonel's office. After several people gave incomplete directions, Ragnar arrived in front of the clerk.

Corporal Mueller eyed Ragnar disdainfully from head to toe. "Where have you been? Take a seat." He said.

The unfamiliar idiom puzzled Ragnar, who looked around in confusion.

"Sit in a chair." Tell Mueller said. He pointed in exasperation. Ragnar sat.

A candlemark passed while Ragnar waited for the Colonel to call him in. Officers came and went. Some looked at him curiously, others ignored him.

At long last, Captain Clagett poked his head out of Colonel Chase's office. "Where is that …" He spotted Ragnar. "Oh, there you are! Where have you been? We've been waiting for you." He waved Ragnar to come over.

As Ragnar went in, he glanced at Corporal Mueller. The clerk looked back at him blandly. Heeding Shanis Rains' warnings about the hazards of antagonizing clerks, Ragnar said nothing to the officers.

Colonel Chase remembered Ragnar. She noted he had gained a couple of inches in height and muscled up since she had last seen him. "You seem not only to have impressed several Heralds, who think highly of you, but Shanis Rains, who was my sergeant when I was a shavetail ensign. She says you would make a good scout, which is the best recommendation from my point of view. What I want to know is: How do you feel about working with the guardsmen who killed your clansmen? With the Herald on this circuit who killed your father? Are you going to seek revenge?"

Colonel Chase's bluntness did not surprise Captain Clagett. He watched Ragnar's reaction closely.

"My father died in battle, as a warrior would wish. I have made my peace with Herald Kensie. The matter is finished. Your people fought better than mine. You were defending your homes. Angsar, an old warrior I knew, told me 'Do not fight old battles again.' The past is gone.

"As for me, I cannot go home, so I must find a new home here."

Colonel Chase eyed Ragnar as he spoke. Shanis Rains' letter had told her how Ragnar was outcast, but the calm way he spoke of his situation surprised her. She concluded he was either very mature for his age or a superb liar. She found both notions unsettling. "I see." She said. "If we take you on as an auxiliary scout, we will not ask you to work against your own people."

"I understand, thank you." Ragnar said. He smiled inwardly. He read the other meaning implied in Colonel Chase's words: _'We won't tempt you to change sides again.'_ Truthfully, Ragnar was glad of the promise: He would feel no conflict of conscience while serving the Valdemarans. He liked them, but they still were not his people.

"However," Colonel Chase said, "you've come to the wrong place. You should have reported to the training base at Warford." Ragnar bit his lip to avoid laughing. _'You're not supposed to be here'_ was another of the 'military traditions' that Shanis Rains warned him about. The colonel, unaware of Ragnar's inner amusement, went on "I am sorry, but you are going to have to backtrack. You will go with Captain Clagett on his return trip."

###

Fifteen days later, Ragnar encountered a third 'military tradition': _'Somebody didn't get the message.'_

"Why in the nine hells did they send me a recruit who'd never ridden a horse before?" Sergeant Barlett bellowed in Ragnar's face. Ragnar opened his mouth to reply. "Shut up, recruit. The only thing I want to hear from you is 'Yes, Sir!'"

Ragnar looked at him in shock.

"Wipe that stupid look off your face." Sergeant Barlett shouted.

Ragnar braced rigidly, trying to imitate the expressions of the score of other recruits in the line.

Omar Barlett looked Ragnar up and down. "You're damned near big enough to put a saddle on yourself. Where am I going to find a horse for you?"

"There's Tiny, Sir." Corporal Reigel said.

Sergeant Barlett grinned unpleasantly. "Yes, there's Tiny. Put him down for Tiny."

Two candlemarks later, after Sergeant Barlett was done reviling the character, fitness, intelligence, morals, sanitary habits and appearance of Ragnar and the other recruits, Ragnar met Tiny. All seventeen hands three inches of him. _**[A/N: = 180 cm]**_

The massive skewbald gelding pinned his ears as Corporal Reigel handed the lead rope to Ragnar. When Ragnar went to pat his neck, Tiny snapped his teeth at Ragnar's hand, nearly catching it. Ragnar smacked the gelding on the muzzle, then waved his hand in the horse's face, causing it to back up.

"Now, let's get a look at you." Ragnar said. Corporal Reigel raised an eyebrow in surprised approval, then resumed his neutral expression as Ragnar examined the horse.

On the left side of Tiny's neck, just in front of the withers Ragnar spotted a patch of white that vaguely resembled an eagle in flight. Taking it as a good omen, Ragnar smiled and gently scratched the spot. Tiny flicked an ear and leaned into the scratching. "I think we're going to get along fine." Ragnar said, eliciting another quick look of surprise from the Corporal.

"Take him over to the tie-rings and groom him." Reigel ordered.

Ragnar led Tiny to the wall where other recruits were already grooming their assigned mounts as Corporal Reigel moved on to the next recruit and horse. Taking a curry-comb and brush from the rack on the wall, Ragnar set to work.

Sergeant Barlett walked along the line, overseeing the work of the recruits as they groomed their assigned mounts. He stopped at each pair, inspecting them. Too horse-wise to shout or rant in the presence of the beasts, Omar Barlett told each recruit what he was doing wrong in a quiet voice. Though his voice was soft, the sergeant's words left the recruits with no doubt that he considered them incompetent and unworthy to muck out stalls with their bare hands.

Barlett reached Ragnar's position. His eyes narrowed as he watched Ragnar work. Tiny leaned into Ragnar's firm strokes, evidently enjoying the grooming. "I thought you said you'd never ridden." He said.

"Not horses, Sir." Ragnar had already learned to use the mandatory 'Sir'. He did not stop grooming the horse. "I rode mules at Gillhold. I groomed mules and Companions there, Sir."

Barlett snorted in disbelief. "Only Heralds groom Companions."

"I worked at the waystation, Sir. Sometimes the Heralds would let me help."

Barlett nodded, understanding. He had been around horses all his life and, in the guard, had seen dozens of Companions over the years. At first he'd admired the Companions only for their beauty, but close observation had given him an appreciation of their intelligence. He had no doubt that they would let anyone grooming them know the proper way to do so. The sergeant moved on to the next recruit.

Basic cavalry training had the same shape as any basic military training: Endless drills, marching, exhausting workouts at all hours, marching, running, marching, weapons training, marching, midnight call outs, cleaning and polishing and marching. Cavalry training had all that plus learning to ride and fight on horseback. And may the gods help anyone out of step or with the slightest smudge on himself or his horse.

Some of the recruits with merchant or highborn ancestry had ridden for years. They knew how to ride. Or thought they did. Sergeant Barlett informed them otherwise. Especially those who had the benefit of stablemen to groom and care for their horses. Barlett took particular delight in demonstrating to the latter that their horses' stalls were not clean by 'inviting' them to pick through the bedding with their bare hands.

Ragnar was about the middle of the recruits as far as riding skill. He'd had some training with the mules at Gillhold and the balance he'd learned on the longboats as a youngster made learning to move with the horse's motion easy. Even when Sergeant Barlett demanded they ride without reins or stirrups, Ragnar never fell off by accident – unlike most of the other recruits who were supposedly trained riders.

Surprisingly, part of their training was falling off. When Gunner Seymour questioned why, the sergeant explained to him – with numerous expletives – that anything from his horse stumbling to a collision with an enemy could send him to the ground. Courteously, Sergeant Barlett gave Gunner time to think about it while he sprinted to the top of Porter Hill and back.

As Gunner set off on his jaunt, Sergeant Barlett explained to the others that they needed to learn to fall without injuring themselves and to be able to come to their feet ready to defend themselves. "If you don't, several hundred horses are going to stomp you into the mud."

"You're paste." Corporal Reigel said, placing a foot on Ragnar's back. Ragnar had kicked his feet out of the stirrups and tumbled off Tiny's back as the gelding galloped. Unfortunately, Tiny's back leg had hit Ragnar's head as he rolled. Dazed, Ragnar had struggled to his hands and knees and waited for a moment to regain his senses. Corporal Reigel's foot meant Ragnar had been 'stomped to death' by the 'surrounding horses.' After a quick check of Ragnar's eyes to see that there was no concussion, Reigel ordered him to get back on Tiny and repeat the exercise.

Actually learning to fight on horseback began not on horses, but on wooden mock-horses. "Can't risk you injuring your horse. They're valuable animals." Corporal Reigel said. "'Course, we'd have to hang you for damaging the Queen's property, but that would be no loss."

After learning to wield their weapons on the stationary mock-horses, the recruits fought one another with mock-horses on wheels, pushed by the other recruits. Better co-ordinated than the other recruits, Ragnar demolished them all in the session. He felt cocky until Corporal Reigel got up on the other 'horse' and sent him to the ground in a sunwidth.

"Which one of you is Ragnar Einarson?" An unknown sergeant growled from the edge of the practice ground as Ragnar got to his feet. Ragnar raised his hand.

"Where the hell have you been?" The sergeant demanded.

"Hoyer, what's this all about?" Sergeant Barlett looked angrily at the newcomer.

Hoyer pointed at Ragnar. "He was supposed to report for scout training a fortnight ago." Both sergeants looked at Ragnar as though he were at fault.

###

Scout training had less spit-and-polish than regular cavalry training, but was far more intense in other ways. For one thing, Ragnar had three horses to care for instead of one. Flash, Nip and Tosh were all much smaller than Tiny; Ragnar would train with them and they would be his permanent mounts in the field. Smart, strong and nimble, the three horses had incredible endurance. They would be Ragnar's partners; he and they had to learn to move and stand quietly or even lie down at need, responding only to Ragnar's hand signals. Sergeant Hoyer's skills in this amazed Ragnar: He suspected the sergeant had animal mindspeech, though Hoyer denied it.

He learned hand to hand fighting and hit-and-run skirmishing on horseback. Shooting arrows from all positions while riding a galloping horse was thrilling sport, even when a misstep sometimes sent him bruisingly to the ground. Ragnar broke no bones, but two of the five other students did and Ragnar severely wrenched a shoulder when picking up Myn Woyjik at a full gallop during 'rescue' practice. Over the objections of the healer, Sergeant Hoyer insisted that their training continue. "If you've got a hundred Karsites on your tail, you can't stop to find a healer." Hoyer was not stupid or inhumane, but he knew that scouts were often alone without help: They had to learn to work though in pain. Cannily, the sergeant structured the scouts' exercises to avoid strain on the injuries even though it appeared he gave them no respite.

Hoyer respected Ragnar's skills in animal tracking, but Ragnar had to learn to track humans. Identifying the tracks of men and horses was easy, but Sergeant Hoyer demanded that Ragnar work out more. Ragnar had to tell how many people, their height and weight, their age and their sex. Were they refugees, soldiers, bandits, hunters or gatherers? Were they healthy or injured? How long since they passed this way? The townspeople of Warford acted as quarry, enjoying a pleasant day in the woods as Ragnar and his fellow students attempted to track them. The townspeople enjoyed the game, delighting in finding ways to hide their tracks and deceive the scouts.

The most important part of the training was learning to anticipate their targets and get ahead of them. On one level, this was much like tracking game as it moved to water or cover or preferred grazing; on another level, human were subtler and more devious. Human goals were more varied and obscure. They were aware that their opponents were trying to discern their purpose and could remember what they had done before. Tracking humans meant learning to think like the enemy.

Ragnar learned to read maps and terrain, to find shelter and cover even in places where he'd never been. With his Clan training, Ragnar was well ahead of his fellow trainees when it came to surviving in the woods and living off the land. He was even able to show Hoyer things that were new to the sergeant, though Hoyer's knowledge generally exceeded Ragnar's.

Ragnar enjoyed tracking and scouting, which demanded he think, analyse and anticipate, but there was another, darker side of his training. Ragnar learned to kill in silence and stealth, striking without warning against foes who were unaware and in ways that prevented them from warning others. These lessons unsettled Ragnar and the other students. Ragnar had killed Wat Dahlgren and Cody Wruck without remorse, but they had attacked him. Killing without warning and without a chance to fight back was different: It was cold, premeditated murder. The thought tormented Ragnar in his sleep.

Ragnar and the other trainees discussed their doubts during one of their infrequent breaks. "I don't know," Myn Woyjik said "but I guess it is one of those things we have to do when the time comes. I hope when I stand before The One, I can say I did the right thing." The others murmured agreement. Ragnar touched the pouch of stones he still carried on his hip; he longed to ask the Eagle for guidance, but the stones felt still and cold under his hand. In any case, the busy training regime left him no time or opportunity to ask.

On the last day of Corn Moon, Sergeant Hoyer summoned Ragnar to the tiny cubicle that was his office and bunk. "You're training here is finished. You head for Redruth tomorrow morning." He handed Ragnar a paper and a pouch of coins. "Here are your orders. They will allow you to stay in guard posts and camps along your way and requisition supplies. Here is your first quarter pay."

Ragnar stared at the sergeant in shock. "But I hardly know anything, Sir. I'm not ready."

"You realize that? Good." Hoyer said. "But you've learned all you can here." He pointed out the door. "Your final teacher is out there. Now you need real field experience. It's the only way. It might kill you, but we can't teach here what you will learn out there."

Ragnar absorbed this for a moment. He saluted the sergeant. "I think I understand, Sir. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. At least, not until you've been out there long enough to find out what works and what doesn't." Sergeant Hoyer smiled. "I think you have the makings of a good scout, Einarson. Try not to disappoint me."

Ragnar smiled back. "I'll try, Sir. Who am I going with?"

Hoyer grinned. "You're a scout. You should be able to find your way on your own. Consider it your final exam. A couple of the others will follow in a few days. Don't make them go searching for you." He offered his hand.

Ragnar repressed a snort. He'd gone most of the route twice already. The road was clearly marked. If he was unable to find his way, he was worthless as scout. He also saw what the real test was: They were testing his loyalty. He was being given a little money and three valuable horses. With that and what he knew, he could disappear and make his own way. He could even work his way around the Great Water to Clan lands. He could spin a tale of how he'd evaded capture and stolen horses to hide his disgrace. He could deceive his clansmen. They might not see through his lie, but Ragnar would know it. No. Ragnar would show the Valdemarans that he could be trusted. Besides, he doubted he could deceive Shaman Kadir.

All this flashed through Ragnar's mind as he shook Sergeant Hoyer's hand. "I won't disappoint you, Sir." He suspected that Hoyer guessed both meanings of that.

"One more thing before you go." Hoyer said. "Tell Sergeant Kelding we're even now." At Ragnar's puzzled look, he added. "Kelding will understand."

Eight days later, Captain Tewkes-Felthan grinned as Ragnar rode through the gate of the guardpost at Redruth.


	13. Chapter 13 - On Patrol

Chapter 13 – On Patrol

" _Every calling is great when greatly pursued." - Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr._ _  
_

It was Ragnar's third day of patrolling with Trav Penrose. The corporal was showing Ragnar the territory under Redruth's watch and assessing his abilities. In a moon, Ragnar would be working on his own.

Ragnar stared down at the emaciated boy, who looked up at them with terrified eyes. Tracking the boy had been no challenge. Trav had spotted the boy's trail only moments before Ragnar; he had intended to 'ignore' it to see if Ragnar spotted it, but had barely thought of the 'test' before Ragnar pointed to the track. It was quickly obvious to both their quarry was a boy, alone, inexperienced and probably in poor health. It took them only half a candlemark to find him crouching behind a bush.

From the boy's condition and direction of travel, he was likely a Karsite refugee, though it was possible he was an infiltrator. Interrogators at the guardpost would check after they took him back. Refugees were the commonest sightings, with smugglers being the next most frequent.

"Peace. You are safe." Trav used one of the stock phrases of Karsite he'd been drilling into Ragnar. The boy's eyes widened. He rose to his feet slowly, unsure what to do. He spoke a few words that neither scout understood.

Trav and Ragnar dismounted. With gestures and stock phrases, they told the boy they did not speak Karsite. Reaching into his saddlebag, Trav pulled out some waybread and handed it to the boy, who stared back unbelieving until Trav mimed eating. The boy needed no further invitation and began cramming the waybread into his mouth. Trav smiled and pulled a tiny pouch out of his pocket. Opening it, he took a pinch of salt and put it on the boy's hand.

The boy gaped at the salt for a moment. He sprinkled it on the waybread, then took a bite. Bread and salt, given and received. The boy smiled. He placed a hand over his heart and nodded.

Trav pointed at himself and Ragnar. "Trav. Ragnar." He pointed at the boy. "What is your name?" He used another Karsite stock phrase.

"Jamik." The boy pointed at his chest. "Jamik Nottebart."

By gesture and a few stock phrases, Trav and Ragnar told Jamik he would have go to the guardpost where someone would talk to him. Ragnar would take the boy back while Trav continued the patrol; Ragnar was to rejoin Trav the next day. Trav scribbled a quick note to give to Sergeant Kelding.

Ragnar put a reluctant Jamik on Tosh, his spare mount for the patrol. When he saw Jamik's evident fear and the way Jamik gripped Tosh's mane, Ragnar pulled his saddle off Nip and put it on Tosh. Ragnar could ride Nip bareback for the five candlemarks it would take to get to Redruth.

###

"What have you done to Trav, pirate?" Corporal Spears demanded as Ragnar and Jamik rode through the gate. "Did you murder him?" From the day of Ragnar's arrival, Hal Spears made his dislike of the 'pirate' scout plain. Fortunately, Ragnar reported to Sergeant Kelding, not to Corporal Spears.

Ragnar jumped down from Nip. "Nah, Spears. We found a replacement for you. Doesn't know a thing about the guard, so he should be just as good." Ragnar did not salute the Corporal, knowing it would annoy Spears. As an auxiliary, he did not have to, though he did salute most of the officers and non-coms on the post. With Spears, he made an exception.

A few of the men nearby hid their grins from Corporal Spears. The mutual contempt and verbal sparring between the Corporal and the new scout was already a subject of conversation. The men eagerly shared details of every exchange and made bets on when the two would come to blows; Ragnar was the favorite to win.

"Looks half-dead to me." Spears retorted. "Did you drain…."

"Stow it, Corporal." Sergeant Kelding interrupted from behind. Spears subsided and Kelding turned to Ragnar. "What do we have here?" He asked.

"Trav thinks he's a refugee, Sir. We found him along Sulphur Creek, about four miles this side of the border. He doesn't know Valdemaran and answers to Karsite. Says his name is Jamik Nottebart." Ragnar handed Trav's note to the sergeant.

After a quick glance at the note, Kelding looked at Jamik. Smiling, he spoke in Valdemaran "Welcome to Valdemar, Jamik. The hell-horses haven't been fed in a while, so we are going to carve your belly open and feed your guts to them while you watch. Then we'll roast you slowly over a fire before we cut your throat." He held out his hand.

Ragnar and the men standing nearby fought to remain impassive during Kelding's outrageous speech, knowing the sergeant was testing Jamik.

Jamik returned the sergeant's smile and clasped his hand. "May the Sun watch over you." He said in Karsite.

Kelding and the others grinned. The sergeant knew that a well-trained infiltrator wouldn't have shown understanding. From Jamik's condition and clothes, he thought it unlikely the boy was a spy.

Shifting to his limited and badly pronounced Karsite, Kelding told the boy someone would explain everything soon. In the meantime, he would be held and questioned.

###

Jamik's eyes went wide with fear as Father Gagen entered his cell. Istvan Gagen was the grandson of refugees who had settled in Redruth sixty years before. Istvan felt the call of the priesthood and now ministered to the numerous Karsite refugees and descendants who lived in Redruth. He wore a cream-colored robe and Sundisk identical to those worn by white-robe priests in Karsite.

"Peace, young man. May the Sunlord bless you." Father Gagen made the Sun-sign as he spoke, attempting to calm Jamik. "May I sit down?"

The question had its desired effect. No Sunpriest Jamik ever met had asked permission for anything. Jamik jumped to his feet, offering his place to the priest. Father Gagen took the offered chair and told Jamik to sit as well. The boy gingerly sat in the next chair.

Instead of questioning the boy, Father Gagen began by telling Jamik his own story, beginning with how his grandparents had rebelled against a corrupt priest and fled after killing him. They kept their belief in the Sunlord and, finding trustworthy priests in Valdemar, raised their children in their faith.

Inspired by the priest's story, Jamik told how a Voice had accused his sister of having witch-powers and condemned her to be burnt. Jamik attempted to rescue her and was caught. He was forced to watch his sister's death, then returned to a cell to await the same fate the next day.

Jamik escaped and fled north to Valdemar, willing to risk the White Demons to avoid the certainty of the flames. Not fully trusting the priest, Jamik did not tell Father Gagen how the guard, an old friend of his father's, had deliberately turned his back so Jamik could 'knock him out' and 'steal the keys'.

For a fortnight, Jamik made his way north, avoiding all contact with people. He survived on water, a few berries and, he admitted shamefaced to the priest, fruits and vegetables stolen from gardens. He wept when Father Gagen forgave the necessity.

Just before Jamik crossed the border, he saw a large gang of bandits heading west. Already outcast, Jamik thought of joining them but a good look convinced him he wanted nothing to do with them. He thought they would probably turn him in for a reward. White Demons or not, the only place Jamik would be safe from the fires was Valdemar.

"Excuse me, Jamik. You said you saw bandits heading west?" Father Gagen interrupted. The priest knew the area was mostly rough hills and bush on the Karsite side, but there were several farming villages just north of the border in Valdemar. The Valdemaran villages would be far more worthwhile targets than anything on the Karsite side.

"Yes, Father. I think there were a score or more, all on horseback."

Father Gagen took Jamik's hand. "My son, I must ask your permission to tell the soldiers. The bandits you saw could do great harm in our land. Or, if you will not give me permission, I must ask you to tell them yourself."

Jamik looked at the priest in utter astonishment. A priest asking his permission? Jamik thought Father Gagen would report everything. Why would he need Jamik's permission to repeat what he had learned?

Father Gagen understood Jamik's confusion. More than anything, Jamik's expression convinced the priest that the boy could not be a spy. "I am a priest, Jamik. What you have told me is under confessional. I may not repeat it without your permission. I am asking your permission because telling the Valdemarans may save many lives. Will you allow me, or will you tell them yourself? Please?"

Jamik continued to gape at the priest for some moments. He knew the confessional was supposed to be secret. He also knew most Sunpriests broke the secrecy at their convenience and without regret. He pulled Father Gagen's hand to his lips and kissed it fervently. He had found a True Priest. "Oh yes, Father! I will tell them. I will tell them gladly! Bring me someone I can tell." He kissed the priest's hand again.

"Thank you, my son. Let me fetch someone." He rose and went to the door. Opening it, he spoke in Valdemaran. "Is Alex Ritter around? We need him." Though he did not understand the words, Jamik's jaw dropped. The door had been unlocked the whole time.

Lieutenant Ritter arrived immediately. He had been waiting for Father Gagen to finish. It was standard procedure for the priest to be the first to meet all persons crossing the border. Encountering a genuine priest who really lived his faith convinced most refugees they could trust Valdemarans. The ploy sometimes swayed even real spies. Just by being himself, Father Gagen was invaluable to Lieutenant Ritter, who took care never to violate the priest's confessional.

Fluent in eight languages, Lieutenant Ritter had been an interrogation officer from the day he joined the guard. He loathed torture and never resorted to it. By patiently building a rapport, he could extract the truth from almost any subject. Rarely did he have to call upon the Heralds and their Truth Spell to get the information he wanted.

Ritter shook Jamik's hand. In Karsite, he told Jamik exactly what he was. "We have to know if you are a spy sent to work against us. I will ask you questions to find out who you are and why you have come. Usually, I wait until Father Gagen is done. Since he has called me in early, I assume there is something important you need to tell me."

The priest nodded at Jamik. "I saw bandits just before I crossed the border. Father Gagen said it was important." Jamik said.

"Oh?" Lieutenant Ritter raised an eyebrow. There were many possible explanations for Jamik's story, ranging from simple fabrication or ruse to an outright invasion. He had to find out. Ritter sat down and questioned Jamik for details.

Jamik told how he had seen at least twenty bandits on a path headed west shortly before he crossed the border. Jamik did not know the territory, so he could not say where exactly where it was. When Lieutenant Ritter asked him to point it out on a map, he discovered that Jamik was illiterate. Ritter had to explain what a map was and painstakingly get Jamik's best estimate of where he'd seen the bandits.

Ragnar had already told the lieutenant where he and Trav found Jamik. From that and Jamik's scanty information, Ritter deduced that the bandits were following a known trail on the northern slopes of the Barrier Hills (or the Nordhellen as they were known in Karse.)

###

"I think the boy is telling the truth." Ritter told Colonel Chase a half-candlemark later. "I need to question him further, but this couldn't wait."

Colonel Chase nodded. She turned to Captain Mazur. "Anton, take three troops and every scout not already out. It should be enough to deal with a score of bandits."

Sergeant Kelding assigned Ragnar and two other scouts to Captain Mazur. When the Captain questioned using the 'green' Ragnar, Kelding laughed. "Sergeant Hoyer at Watford sent me Einarson as payback. I once took the best scout Hoyer had. Hoyer thinks Einarson will be that good."

Ragnar headed west before dawn the next morning. Kelding sent a messenger to tell Trav Penrose about Ragnar's reassignment.

###

Two days later, Ragnar scanned the tracks on the east bank. Five unshod horses carrying riders and two donkeys. They had obviously come downstream in the creek, attempting to hide their infiltration in the water. The hoofprints were fresh, less than a candlemark old. Glancing at the stream-bed, he could still see a track under the water, not yet washed away. Coming the other way, Ragnar had just missed them. He dismissed the possibility they had seen him and were preparing an ambush. The tracks went straight on; there was no sign they had scattered to hide.

From Captain Mazur's briefing, there were supposed to be twenty or more. Where were the rest? Ragnar looked around, remembering the map and what he had seen earlier. The valley was not deep. There would be several game trails on either side of the creek. The gang could travel in small groups moving parallel, staying close enough together to aid each other at need.

Ragnar had chosen to come up this valley as the shortest route to the border. The creek met another three miles downstream. There was an oxbow where they met, a natural campsite. On his way upstream, Ragnar had noted the signs of previous use. Since it was two candlemarks past noon, the bandits would probably make camp there tonight.

Remounting Flash, Ragnar crossed to the west side of the stream and entered the brush. Tosh obediently followed Flash.

A quarter candlemark later, Ragnar grinned as Flash's head came up and his ears pricked forward. Stopping, Ragnar heard a horse blow ahead of them. Well trained, neither of his horses called to the ones ahead.

Ragnar slipped off Flash. Signalling Flash and Tosh to 'stand', Ragnar slid into the brush and crept up until he came in sight of the bandits slowly following the rough track. Six riders and one donkey. One of the horses was shod – the larger, better-bred one carrying the obvious leader.

Flash and Tosh looked up as Ragnar returned, both contentedly chewing mouthfuls of grass. Ragnar gave each a quick scratch on the crest before remounting and following the bandits.

A mile and a half further on, five more bandits came downslope to join the group Ragnar was following. A half mile beyond that, two more groups crossed the creek to merge with them. As Ragnar predicted, they dismounted at the oxbow and began to make camp. Ragnar counted them carefully before slipping away to meet Captain Mazur.

###

Thirty miles to the east, at the very moment Ragnar left the bandits, Colonel Greta Chase looked sourly at the note from Herald Kensie. The Heralds had discovered a gang of bandits near Bohrsholding, two days to the east of Redruth. The rider from Laikhold had arrived on a winded horse, bearing the Herald's note requesting support.

To the colonel, the co-ordinated attacks looked like a scheme to draw troops out of Redruth. Her intelligence report indicated there was a Black Robe priest allied with the Son of the Sun near the border. The report said the source was highly reliable. (Colonel Chase did not know the source was Herald Eldan.) War was unlikely, but the Black Robe could be planning a raid. She could not risk weakening the garrison further at this time. The Heralds would have to wait.

Hopefully, the Heralds would have the good sense to simply harass the bandits, avoiding engagement until Captain Mazur's force returned and she could afford to send troops. Colonel Chase sighed. When it came to avoiding engagements, were not noted for good sense. In the meantime, she ordered Captain Tewkes-Felthan to ready troops to move out as soon as Captain Mazur returned.

###

"Twenty-two men?" Anton Mazur repeated the number. At Ragnar's nod, the Captain looked down at the map. He pointed at the spot Ragnar indicated. "Here?" He asked.

"Yes." Ragnar confirmed.

Mazur glanced at Sergeant Kelding, who nodded. Kelding trusted the new scout. The Captain made a decision. The bandits could hit Foxboro in the morning. He looked at the sun. Three, maybe four candlemarks of light left. He could be in position in two. He would attack them just before sunset.

"Pulver!" He waved the ensign over. "Take a dozen archers and put them across the creek from the camp. Do not attack. Take down anyone trying to get away. No noise. Leave that black monster of yours here."

Janos Pulver saluted and left. He wasn't happy to leave Night's Eagle behind, but knew the horse was too big to hide and too likely to neigh if it smelled or heard the bandit horses.

"Kelding, are the other scouts back yet?" Mazur asked.

"No, Sir. I don't expect them back before sunset, unless they find something." The sergeant said.

The captain grimaced. More would be better. "You and your scout will have to do. Take out the pickets. I want no warning before we attack."

Sergeant Kelding waved at Ragnar, who followed him out. The officers gathered around the captain to plan the attack.

###

Ragnar eyed the bandit assigned picket duty contemptuously. The man leaned against a tree, the setting sun fully on his face. The bandit was blind to anything in the shadows.

Ragnar moved carefully through the bushes along the creek. The sound of the water and the bushes waving in the breeze covered the noises of Ragnar's advance. He crept around the picket, finally reaching a position behind the very tree where the bandit lounged.

Ragnar focused, mentally rehearsing his movement. As Sergeant Hoyer had trained him, Ragnar sprang at the man. He clamped his left hand over the bandit's mouth and thrust his knife into the man's heart with a single hard blow. The bandit's eyes went wide in surprise and he held still for a moment. His hands, which had risen to resist, dropped to his sides and his body went slack. Ragnar lowered the body carefully to the ground.

He wiped his blade on the dead bandit's clothing, trying not to look at the face and the still-open eyes. He rose to his feet and faced west, motioning to the hiding troopers to stay down and pointing in the direction of the next picket.

There were three pickets. Kelding and Ragnar had located them well before the troopers arrived. Now that Captain Mazur's troops were in position, it was time to clear the way for the attack. After Kelding and Ragnar removed the pickets, the troops would advance, trying to get close for maximum surprise.

Ragnar moved between the middle picket and the camp, coming up behind the bandit. The very small man was more careful, concealing himself in the shadows behind a bush and vigilantly watching the clearing and path in front of him. He did not, however, watch behind him, trusting the men in the camp to protect his back.

It was a fatal mistake. Ragnar stealthily approached his victim's back. He put his hand over the man's mouth and drove his knife into his back. The body jerked and slumped in Ragnar's arms. Once again, Ragnar lowered the corpse to the ground. Ragnar glanced at the bandit's face and stopped in shock. The bandit was no more than a boy, without even a hint of a beard. He looked like Bjorn, his younger brother.

Kelding tapped Ragnar on the shoulder, tearing Ragnar's look away from the vacant, dead eyes. "All down?" Ragnar nodded, trying to regain his composure.

"Good." Kelding said. The sergeant stepped into the clearing and waved the troopers forward. The bushes on the other side of the clearing stirred as Captain Mazur's men carefully emerged.

###

Seven bandits sat bound in the remains of the camp, the rest were dead. Captain Mazur's attack had taken them completely by surprise. With the pickets dead, the bandits had no warning when the Valdemaran troops stormed their camp. Ensign Pulver's bowmen had killed the two who had attempted to wade the creek.

In the fading twilight, the troopers piled the dead bandits along one side of the camp.

Ragnar gently placed the body of the boy on the pile.

"My boy! My boy! You've killed my boy!" One of the captives wailed as he saw the body.

Ragnar closed his eyes and turned away. He'd killed Wat Dahlberg and Cody Wruck without remorse – that had been done in self defense. The first bandit picket – the lazy one – had not bothered him either. But the boy – who resembled Bjorn – killing him made Ragnar ashamed.

Sergeant Kelding saw Ragnar's look. He knew Ragnar's history. Even scouts who had actually killed in battle found this sort of killing hard. Kelding himself was often bothered by what he drove himself to do.

"Come with me, lad." Sergeant Kelding took Ragnar's arm and led him to a quiet spot near the creek. He set a small campfire. Once it was going, Sergeant Kelding got to the point. "That boy bothers you, doesn't he?"

Ragnar looked down and wept. "He looked like my brother."

As the night grew darker, Kelding drew the young scout out, getting to express his doubts and feelings. Much more gently than Shanis Rains had spoken to Bredin, Kelding spelled out the brutal logic of war and combat. Ragnar followed the reasoning, but Kelding could see that he did not fully accept it.

While they spoke, Herald Amos, summoned earlier, arrived at the camp. The Herald did a quick examination of the surviving bandits under the Truth Spell. The bandits, terrified of the White Demon and Hell-horse, told Amos a Black Robe priest had ordered them to raid in the western border areas, causing as much havoc as they could. They did not know why the priest wanted the raids, but they depended on his protection to keep the Sunsguard off their backs. One target was as good as another.

Amos frowned. It was getting late and Captain Mazur's troops needed to rest. He would question the bandits further in the morning. He nodded to the captain, who set the watch and ordered the troops to rest. In the meantime, Belelme told him he had something else to do.

###

Ragnar looked up as Amos and Belelme approached. He smiled wanly at the ghostly apparitions that briefly flickered as they came.

"Belelme says you need our help." Amos said. Sergeant Kelding's jaw dropped momentarily, he got to his feet. "No need to get up, Sergeant. Rest awhile. Ragnar needs to go somewhere." Amos motioned Ragnar to get up and follow him. Amos carried a small lantern to light the way.

Puzzled, Ragnar went with the Herald, who led him to the creek. The three splashed across the shallow stream to the point between the merging creeks. As they reached the other side, Amos said "Randen said I might meet you. He told me Derris and Inetia helped you in a ritual. Belelme says you need our help again."

Ragnar gaped at the Spirit Rider and Spirit Horse. It was too dark to read expressions, but Amos and Belelme sensed his astonishment. They chuckled. "Ayawin is waning. Soon, she will be dark. It will be a fortnight before she shows her face." Ragnar protested.

"Nevertheless, Belelme says you need this." Amos smiled. Ragnar could sense a place of power nearby; Belelme was leading them directly to it. They arrived and Amos put down the lantern.

Ragnar stared at them wide-eyed. Belelme nodded and whickered. Ragnar looked up at the sky. Only the stars shone brightly, undimmed by Ayawin or the ancestor's dance. It was nearly midnight.

Ragnar took a deep breath. Kneeling, he drew a circle at the center of the place of power. Folding his legs, he sat on the south side, facing the Eye of the Eagle, which he could just see through the trees. Amos and Belelme took positions on either side.

Pulling the pouch of stones from his belt, Ragnar poured them into his hand. Cupping them, he closed his eyes and prayed to the Eagle. The feeling of a great presence washed over him.

 _::Oh My!::_ The mindvoices came from both Amos and Belelme.

Ragnar cast the stones. He opened his eyes expectantly and nearly fell over in shock. It was not the Eagle which glowed on the north side of the circle, but a great winged horse.

"The Windrider!" Amos gasped out loud.

The Great Spirit nodded at Ragnar. A feeling of blessing and approval washed over him before it vanished.

The three held their places in the darkness, scarcely breathing. Finally, Amos picked up the lantern. Opening the flap, he aimed it at the circle.

Ragnar studied the stones. The two glittering stones stood together: There had been a confrontation with the large black stone, which they had won. But it still menaced them. The winged stone faced north, the other white stone was drawing closer. Ragnar could read nothing else.


	14. Chapter 14 - Making a Way

Chapter 14 – Making a Way

" _It is not he who reviles or strikes you who insults you, but your opinion that these things are insulting." Epictetus_ _  
_

"Kerenos, pirate, you slipped your knife into that man's back like stabbing a pig." Corporal Spears jibed as the detachment marched back to Redruth. "I better watch behind me when you're around. I could be dead before I know it."

Ragnar stiffened while several troopers laughed at the Corporal's joke.

"That bandit never heard him coming." John Orser said. "Ragnar moved through those bushes like a feather on a breeze." The other troopers voiced their agreement and admiration for Ragnar's skill.

Private Orser meant to praise Ragnar, but the memory of the dead boy's face haunted the young scout; Orser's words stung deeply. Ragnar looked straight ahead, trying to hide his pain. Hal Spears could see the taunt bothered Ragnar, but incorrectly deduced the reason.

"Your people trained up a real sneaky killer, pirate." Spears added.

Ragnar clenched his jaw. He nudged Tosh into a light canter to move to the head of the column. Flash followed obediently.

"You're an ass, Spears." Art Scranton, one of the other scouts, said. Art trotted ahead after Ragnar.

##

 _Ayawin would not show her face tonight; the dark of the moon was not the best time for casting. Nevertheless, Kadir sat at the south side of the casting circle. Eiger from Lynx Clan and Lyskan from Hawk Clan sat to either side. As the strongest and most sensitive shamans of the Lake Peoples, all three had felt a stirring in the Otherworld two nights before. In fast canoes, the Lynx and Hawk shamans had come to Kadir, insisting that the stones must be cast. The other four shamans had not come: Either they felt nothing or had dismissed the stirrings. Kadir had not needed Eiger and Lyskan's prompting: Even if none of the others had come, Kadir would have visited the Sacred Grove tonight._

 _The three waited silently for midnight. From long study of the starpaths, they could read the passage of the night in every season. Enough familiar stars peeked out between the clouds for the shamans to know the proper moment. Disturbingly, the star they saw most frequently in the gaps was the Blood Star, rising in the east._

 _The three shamans closed their eyes in meditation, yielding their will to the Eagle, hoping for guidance. As they prayed, they sensed a_ coming _of the Otherworld. Calmly, they opened their eyes to see the Eagle manifest on the north side. Each of them felt the blue eyes probing their souls._

 _Kadir cast the stones and the Eagle vanished. Did he imagine it flickered into the form of a horse before it vanished? He glanced at the others. They, too, had seen it._

 _Kadir lit the wick of the lamp and held it up. All three stared down at the stones. There was death in the stones. Much death. Death that had touched the one they watched and shaken him. He was on a cusp. How he coped could strengthen him or destroy him. Fortunately, the casting showed he now had true friends who had also seen death and would stand with him._

###

A fuming Szymon Lucja drove his wagons through the gate of Redruth Guard Post with Ragnar riding alongside.

"Szymon! You're back soon, you old haggler! What brings you here today?" Corporal Spears greeted the man with a smile.

"This idiot" Szymon gestured at Ragnar "on my way home stopped me." Szymon's anger made his thick Karsite accent worse. "Home tomorrow I would be but for this fool."

Spears looked at Ragnar. "Robbing honest traders now, pirate? Why didn't you just cut his throat?"

"'Honest trader' is stretching it a bit." Private Orser put in.

Ragnar flushed slightly, but refused to rise to Hal Spears' bait. "I caught him on a smuggler's track near Dukla Pass. He claimed to be a merchant."

"Dumbass!" Spears retorted. "Szymon is one of our irregulars. Pays his duties and everything."

"At least as far as we know." Orser smirked.

"What's going on here?" Captain Tewkes-Felthan emerged from the headquarters.

Szymon spoke first. "This fool on my way home stops me. Arrests me. Threatens me with sword. Tells me here I must come."

Urson looked at Ragnar, who dismounted and saluted. Ragnar repeated what he told the corporal. Urson bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Didn't Trav or Kelding tell you about the irregulars?" At Ragnar's bewildered look, Urson said "I see they didn't. I'll explain after I've cleared this up."

Urson turned back to the trader. "Szymon, I'm sorry. Ragnar's new here and nobody told him about you and the other irregulars. You are free to go."

The trader snorted. "Grateful I should be that he did not my throat cut? Terrorize us he did! For this, reduced my taxes should be. Freeze to death we will when the snow in the pass catches us."

Urson laughed. "Szymon, you would sell the Winter King his own snow and bargain him out of his silver beard. Winter is moons away, but if you would like an escort back to Dukla pass, I can give you one. Of course, they would have to collect any duties payable on dealings you might make along the way…."

Szymon Lucja grinned. "Oh, trouble you for that I will not. I will be on my way." He nodded at Ragnar. "Only let this one know the way of things." He turned to go back to his wagons.

Ragnar stepped forward, offering his hand. "I see I was wrong. My apologies, Goodman Lucja."

Szymon hesitated, looking Ragnar up and down. He accepted Ragnar's hand. "Your apology I accept, young man. An honest mistake it was. And a humble heart a mistake to admit it takes. Hold a moment."

The trader went to his wagon and rummaged under the seat for a moment. He pulled a tiny object from a pack and came back to Ragnar. "Tall you are." Szymon said as he looped the cord around Ragnar's neck. "There. May Vkandis protect you." He said the last in Karsite.

"May Vkandis protect you and guide you." Ragnar responded in the same language, using one of the stock phrases he had memorized.

Szymon smiled. "Well said, young man. I think you will go far." He climbed on his wagon and snapped the reins. He and his caravan turned around in the parade square. As he passed under the gate, he smiled and waved at Ragnar.

"Well, you managed to impress Szymon." Urson said. "What did he give you?"

Ragnar raised the tiny gold pendant to look at it. As he held it in the sunlight, he sensed a flicker of power settling into the object.

"It's a Sundisk." Urson recognized the pendant. Seeing Ragnar did not understand, Urson explained how such disks were given to Karsite children.

Ragnar nodded. He saw the good intent. He tucked the pendant under his shirt. As it settled beside the pendant Adrian had given him, the two resonated warmly.

After Ragnar stabled his horses, Urson took him aside. Urson, Sergeant Kelding and Lieutenant Ritter explained how Szymon and the other irregulars operated. Officially, there was no trade between Valdemar and Karse, but people are people. Valdemarans enjoyed Karsite whiskey and spices while Karsites enjoyed luxury goods from Valdemar. So there were smugglers. On the Valdemar side, the Crown did not care and recognized them as 'Irregular Traders', so long as the smugglers paid the duties. On the Karsite side, the Sunpriests themselves craved the luxuries and would look the other way in return for a bribe. Szymon and others like him plied their risky and highly profitable trade to meet the demand.

###

Corporal Spears looked around as Ragnar took a seat in the mess hall. Spears mimed startlement and fear. "Don't sit behind me like that, pirate. Too many knives around here. One of them might appear in my back." The corporal ostentatiously moved to the other side of his table so he faced Ragnar. A few members of his squad chuckled.

Ragnar clenched his jaw. He hated the steady rain of insults from Corporal Spears. At home in the Clans, he would have called Spears out; in Valdemar, such challenges were illegal. "Cutting you open would spill horse-crap all over the floor, Spears. Why should I make work for the orderlies?" Ragnar felt his retort was weak.

Spears smirked back. "Five demerits for improperly addressing a superior, Einarson. Oh, I forgot. You're not a _real_ guardsman, are you?"

Ragnar looked down, his fists shaking, ready to launch himself at the corporal. From either side, Trav Penrose and Art Scranton rested hands on Ragnar's arms. "Don't let him get to you, Ragnar." Trav whispered.

Ragnar glanced at his fellow scouts, who looked at him sympathetically. "You're too good a man to get yourself cashiered over small words." Art said quietly. Ragnar looked to the head of the table. Sergeant Kelding looked at him and nodded. Ragnar applied himself to his meal.

###

A candlemark after dinner, Ragnar reported to Sergeant Kelding's quarters. The sergeant returned his salute and gestured to a chair.

After Ragnar sat, Kelding began "Ragnar, had you ever seen a fork three years ago?" The sergeant asked.

Ragnar blinked. The question bewildered him. "No." Clansmen ate with their fingers and knives or used flatbread to scoop up beans and the like.

"Now you use one like a gentleman born to the blue." Kelding said. "How did that happen?"

Ragnar grinned. "Adrian would have smacked me on the head if I didn't eat properly." Ragnar spoke figuratively. Adrian would never have struck anyone, but, to Ragnar, the sting of Adrian's frowns would have been worse than any blow of his hand.

"So you learned to use a fork." Kelding said. "Had you ever ridden a horse before you came here?"

"Nobody in the clans rides horses." Ragnar said.

"But you've learned to ride a horse. If you can learn to handle a fork or a horse, why can't you learn to handle an insult?" Kelding looked at him pointedly.

"I didn't attack him." Ragnar said defensively.

"No, you didn't. But you were damn close to it. You can't let Spears get to you. At least, you can't let him think he's getting to you." Kelding said.

"He keeps calling me a pirate." Ragnar said resentfully.

"In his eyes, you are a pirate. A lot of people in Valdemar think the same way. Get over it." Kelding said.

Ragnar's head jerked up and he looked angrily at the Sergeant, who looked back at him with a measuring stare. After a short silence, Ragnar looked away. "I suppose they do." He conceded. "But they don't keep harping on it."

"So Spears plucks your string and you vibrate to his tune?" Kelding made the statement a question.

"What do you mean?" Ragnar asked.

"You know what I mean."

Ragnar knew. He banged his fist into his palm. "I get so tired of it. I'd like to stuff his own words down his throat."

"Did you listen to what Art said at the table?" Kelding asked.

Ragnar paused a moment to recall Art Scranton's words. "He said something about getting cashiered."

"What do you think is going to happen if an auxiliary scout" – the sergeant pointed at Ragnar – "throws a punch at a corporal?"

"Um. I'd be punished?" Ragnar said.

"You'd be thrown off the post." The sergeant said bluntly. "You're a damn good scout, but you're here only as long as Colonel Chase condones your presence. You cause a disturbance and she'll get rid of you."

"But Spears is the one trying to start something." Ragnar protested.

The sergeant snorted. "He's regular guard. He's also a corporal. And, whether you like him or not, he's actually good at his job. Have you seen the scar on his belly?"

Ragnar shook his head.

"Next time you run into him in the baths, take a look. He got his gut cut open fighting the Tedrels. Saved an officer's life and kept fighting until he collapsed. Would have died if the healers hadn't been handy."

Ragnar looked surprised and Kelding continued. "As a corporal, he does his job. His squad is better than average and his men are on report less often than most. Does it without pissing them off, either."

Ragnar nodded in understanding. He was at a disadvantage with the corporal. "So, how can I get him to stop baiting me?"

Kelding sighed. "I don't know if you can. He doesn't like foreigners, your clansmen in particular. He can have his opinion. Words don't count, so long as he doesn't tell lies."

"So, what can I do?" Ragnar asked.

"Ignore it. You can try to pay him back in kind, but that's risky. He might get punished if he took a swing at you, but the Colonel might decide you were a disruptive influence anyways." Kelding pointed at Ragnar. "But the worst thing you can do is let on that it bothers you. He wants to get you on the prod and, if he succeeds, he'll keep doing it."

Ragnar slumped in the chair, admitting the truth of Sergeant Kelding's words. "I'll try, sir."

"Ragnar. Just do it. I know you can."

###

Ragnar smiled at the villagers in Foxboro as he passed through the square. The Sovran bonfire was already stacked, waiting for sunset. A few villagers smiled back uncertainly at the rough-clad young man, not fully reassured by the Windrider sigil on his saddlebags. At their communal feast tonight, they would give thanks for the guardsmen who had protected them a moon and a half ago. If they had known that Ragnar was the one who had detected the bandits before they could attack, the villagers would have insisted he feast with them. Instead, they watched him nervously, a little afraid of his slightly foreign look and the conspicuous scar on his forehead. The villagers gave a slight sigh of relief as the stranger left by the south gate and continued towards the border. "Probably a scout for the guard." Headman Brody said, trying to convince himself as much as the villagers.

Ragnar made his camp at the oxbow where the guard had wiped out the bandits. The shadow of the nearby hills already covered the site when he arrived and the last glow disappeared from the top of the valley by the time he made his camp. Nip and Tosh looked up expectantly as he approached. Well trained, neither horse made a sound as he poured a measure of grain into their canvas 'buckets.' With an affectionate scratch on their shoulders, Ragnar continued into the brush.

A hundred yards further on, he reached the mound where the dead bandits were buried. In the deepening twilight, he pulled a loaf of bread, a flask of beer and a tiny packet of salt from his pack. Placing the loaf on the mound, he tore open the packet of salt and scattered it over the grave. Next, he unstoppered the flask and poured it on the mound as well.

As he did so, he sensed an otherworldly sigh and the gathering of several presences. Folding his legs, he sat beside the grave until Ayawin rose in the southeast, her light filtering down through the trees to touch the earth.

"Go with the Lady." Ragnar said. One by one, he _saw_ the presences rise on the light. One remained for a moment. The spirit resembled his brother. It looked at Ragnar, then touched its hand to its chest and raised it to its eye. The spirit vanished in the moonlight, leaving Ragnar at peace.

Ragnar rested a while longer before rising to his feet. He returned to his camp and made his supper.

###

As Ayawin neared the south, Ragnar took his lantern and crossed the creek to the spot Amos and Belelme had showed him.

He drew a casting circle on the place of power and sat facing the Eye of the Eagle. He opened the pouch and poured the stones into his hand. He had no questions or need for guidance. But the Valdemarans held that this was a time when the Spirit World was closest to the physical world – and hadn't he just seen that a few candlemarks before? It was a good time to open his heart to the Eagle.

Clouds slid across the sky, hiding Ayawin's face for several sunwidths at a time. Just before midnight, the clouds passed off, filling the circle with moonlight. Ragnar closed his eyes and prayed. He sensed the great Presence and cast the stones.

Opening his eyes, he saw the Eagle and, on the east of the circle, another Spirit, this one in the shape of a horse. The Eagle spread its wings wide and soared upward. The Horse Spirit lingered a moment longer. It laughed in his mind with a feminine voice before rising after the Eagle.

Ragnar looked down at the stones. The same omens remained – the menacing black stone, the warnings of danger and betrayal and the approaching white stone. There was a new, minor message as well: Almost a joke, as though the Spirits had a sense of humor. Ragnar had the sense of a longboat riding broadside to the waves. He snorted. Any fool knew that you either ran before the waves or rowed into them.


	15. Chapter 15 - Following Paths

Chapter 15 – Following Paths

" _Older and wiser voices can help you find the right path, if you are only willing to listen." - Jimmy Buffett_ _  
_

The cold rain of late autumn poured down as Ragnar approached the gates of Redruth two days after Sovran. He whistled cheerfully, reassured by the casting two nights before. Nip and Tosh did not share their master's cheer, tucking their heads and laying their ears flat against the weather. Only when they saw the guardpost did the two horses lift their heads and pick up the pace.

Ragnar grinned at their eagerness to get inside. "Good lads. I promise you a rubdown and a hot mash."

"Ragnar! Get your ass in here so we can close the gate. You look like a drowned rat." Sergeant Fox called out. Ragnar picked up a trot and hurried through. He chuckled at her curses as she and her troopers pushed the gate closed behind him. Art Scranton and Trav Penrose emerged from the stable, their raincloaks pulled tight, to hustle Ragnar and his horses inside.

Stabling the horses, the three scouts gave them the promised rubdown and mash, including a serving for Flash who whickered enviously as Ragnar filled their buckets. After a quick change to dry clothing, Ragnar reported to Sergeant Kelding.

"Didn't expect much." Kelding remarked at Ragnar's negative report. "By late fall, the bandits have holed up and few refugees want to risk the mud and snow. We'll make a few patrols on snowshoes in the winter just in case anyone tries to slip through when they think we're not watching."

Ragnar brightened at that. In the clan, he'd hated the confinement of the longhouse during the winter.

"Meanwhile, Lieutenant Ritter wants to see you before dinner."

Ragnar frowned, wondering what the spymaster and interrogation officer could want. He followed Sergeant Kelding to Ritter's office. Kelding knocked and the lieutenant bid them enter. Ragnar saluted the lieutenant and took a seat at Alex Ritter's invitation. Kelding took another chair to one side.

"I want to test you on some of the Karsite phrases Con and Trav have been drilling into you." The lieutenant said. "Please try to respond in Karsite, even if you're not sure."

At Ragnar's nod, Alex Ritter began. ""May Vkandis protect you."

"May Vkandis protect you and guide you." Ragnar responded automatically.

"What is your name?" Ritter asked.

"I am Ragnar Einarson."

The lieutenant went through the stock phrases for several sunwidths, occasionally stopping to correct Ragnar's pronunciation or phrasing, but apparently satisfied with the answers.

"How many children do you have?" Lieutenant Ritter asked.

Ragnar blinked. That was not one of the standard phrases. Nevertheless, he tried to answer. "Marry I not. Children none of mine."

Ritter grinned. "How many miles to the border from here?"

"Seventeen border rides away be." Ragnar stumbled for the words and syntax.

Ritter looked at Kelding with a grin. "He's brilliant!"

"Ritter, you can't take my best scout away!" Kelding protested. Ragnar looked at them both blankly.

"What is a scout, if not a spy of sorts?" The lieutenant chuckled.

Ragnar looked back and forth between Kelding and Ritter. The lieutenant wanted Ragnar to work for him, he realized. "But I like being a scout!" Ragnar said.

"Oh, you'll still be scouting." Ritter promised. "Just at a different level and with a little more latitude." Seeing the doubtful expression on Ragnar's face, Alex Ritter went on. "Ragnar, I thought you were picking up a little Karsite from the refugees and bandits you were bringing in. You've been here only four moons and you've already picked up a bit of the language. Much more than the stock phrases we teach our scouts. We can't let your talent go to waste."

"Dammit, lieutenant, how am I supposed to cover my territory?" Kelding growled.

The sergeant's frustration amused the spymaster. "Relax, sergeant. Ragnar will still be patrolling for you. It's just I may have some more challenging assignments for him from time to time." He turned back to Ragnar. "So, how do you feel about it, Einarson?"

"You want me to be a spy?" Ragnar asked cautiously.

"Yes." Ritter nodded. "I am going to drill you in Karsite all winter. You are going to work with me and Lieutenant Yarr on sneaking and combat. By Spring Day, you're going to be able to sneak into Karse and bring me back a Sunpriest's Robes with the Sunpriest still in them."

"That sounds like a lot of work." Ragnar said. "But I guess it's better than sitting around all winter."

Ritter laughed. "Einarson, you don't know the half of it." Sergeant Kelding rolled his eyes.

Ragnar left the office with a Valdemaran-Karsite dictionary, a Karsite primer and instructions to report back to Ritter after breakfast the next morning.

###

Ragnar entered the mess hall. Before he could take a seat, Hal Spears called out "Hey, pirate! How many people did you kill over Sovran?"

Ragnar put his best 'crazy grin' on his face. "Why I had a wonderful Sovran, thank you. I saw fifteen souls on their way to the next world." While strictly true, Ragnar knew Corporal Spears would not think of Ragnar's vigil at the burial mound, nor understand what Ragnar had done if he somehow found out.

Corporal Spears looked at him strangely. "For a moment there, I almost believed you."

Keeping the same grin, Ragnar chuckled like a villain in a story. "Oh, it's true! It's true!" He scraped his knife and fork together noisily before digging into his food.

Hal Spears' jaw dropped. Before he could recover, the men in the dining hall laughed. Colonel Chase herself hid a smile. The Corporal turned back to his meal.

###

That evening, Ragnar dug into the Karsite primer. Seeing what he was doing, Trav and Art lent a hand by working through the first three chapters with him. "No harm in learning something myself," Art said, "better than drinking my way through the winter."

A candlemark before 'lights out', Sergeant Kelding ordered the three of them to put down their books and go groom their horses. "Your brains need to unwind before you sleep."

###

In the morning, Ragnar found out just what Lieutenant Ritter meant by 'not knowing the half of it." Ritter handed Ragnar a pile of books on everything from law to clothing styles.

"Why do I have to know law?"

"Being a spy doesn't put you above the law. You have to know what you can and cannot do legally."

"What's clothing got to do with it?"

"Spies have been unmasked because they dressed incorrectly for their pretended station."

A candlemark later, Ragnar arrived at the training room where Owen Yarr waited. Before Ragnar could even greet the post weaponsmaster, Lieutenant Yarr had him pinned to the floor with a knife at his throat. "You have to be ready to fight for your life at a moment's notice." Owen Yarr said.

The 'introduction' over, Owen Yarr tested Ragnar with a bewildering variety of weapons from a short sword to a quarterstaff. Most, Ragnar barely knew. A few, like a sword and a dagger, he knew but Owen Yarr deemed his skill inadequate. Only with bows – longbows and horsebows – and slings did Owen consider Ragnar's skill 'passable.'

"You're about where I was before I joined the guard. You can do better. Anything can be a weapon. You just have to think of it that way." Lieutenant Yarr repeated what his instructors told him. Once in the Royal Guard, Owen Yarr was an outstanding swordsman, skilled in most weapons. Not a 'master', he was nonetheless extremely capable. However, he detested the Court and the snobbery of most of the courtiers. After a particularly testy exchange with Count Lawrence Rute, Captain Kimel granted Yarr's request to transfer to the regular guard. Far more skilled than most guardsmen in the field, Yarr had a knack for teaching and became the weaponsmaster at Redruth along with his other duties.

For the rest of the morning, Ragnar drilled under Owen Yarr, mostly against other troopers, but sometimes with the post weaponsmaster himself. Owen Yarr's critiques were merciless, but Ragnar soon saw the point and promised himself he would earn the weaponsmaster's respect.

At the end of the morning, Ragnar was dripping sweat and ready to drop from exhaustion. Owen Yarr grudgingly admitted Ragnar showed some promise.

"What happens if I learn everything you can teach me?" Ragnar risked a taunt.

Owen Yarr grinned broadly. "Then I'll send you to my master, Herald Alberich. May your gods have mercy on your soul if you ever meet _him_. And since you are being a smartass, you can give me fifty pushups."

###

Ragnar took a shower and changed clothes, so he arrived late for lunch.

Corporal Spears spotted him as he entered. "There you are, pirate. We were hoping you'd run off."

Putting on his 'crazy' grin again, Ragnar said. "I was busy learning new ways to kill. It was so much fun that I almost forgot lunch." He scraped his knife and fork together and began eating. The other troopers chuckled.

###

Lieutenant Ritter's training regime left little time for Ragnar to do anything else, especially as Sergeant Kelding still expected him to perform his scouting duties, including caring for and exercising his horses. Despite the foul weather, Ragnar enjoyed taking Nip, Tosh and Flash out for gallops, riding one while the others loped alongside. Being outside in the fresh air helped his mind relax from the reading and training that Ritter piled on.

On one winter patrol, Ragnar followed a set of tracks from the border to the gates of Thanesholding and back. When he questioned the Holderkin, they denied there had been any visitor and shut the gate in his face. The casting stones in his belt pouch felt uneasy beneath his hand. Ragnar turned and quietly rode away.

Ragnar plodded through his studies and sometimes fell asleep over his books, exhausted by the strenuous workouts and difficulty of the material. The sheer volume of information Ritter threw at him was overwhelming and Ragnar often felt over his head. Many of the subjects puzzled him: Ragnar could see a reason to recognize Karsite uniforms and military commands, but why did he have to learn religious rituals for Vkandis or The Twain or Tholan or Thenoth? He tried hard, but the only subject he excelled in was Karsite: He would never speak like a native, but he quickly gained a working knowledge. Seeing Ragnar's quickness in languages, Ritter added Hardornen to his studies.

Ritter took Ragnar into the town of Redruth, teaching him how to move quietly and unnoticed in a crowd while following or observing someone as well as noticing what was out of place. Ragnar had no difficulty transferring his tracking skills to the new environment.

Just before Midwinter, Art Scranton told Lieutenant Ritter he had seen tracks from the border coming to Redruth. While Ritter concentrated on his known spies to see if the newcomer would contact one of them, he set Ragnar to seek out the intruder.

"I think he's an officer, probably highborn." Ragnar said after describing Captain Alikan. "He carries himself like someone used to deference and being in charge." Ragnar had no problem picking Khal Alikan out in the townspeople, many of whom Ragnar already knew by sight, because of his quarry's different habits. Unlike Valdemaran men, Alikan would not give way to a woman when his path crossed hers. Ragnar noticed how Khal Alikan expected people to defer to him and became irritated when a shopkeeper did not immediately serve him even though others were there first. His quarry quickly suppressed the signs, but Ragnar caught the momentary frowns and Captain Alikan's stiff posture.

Ragnar positioned himself to overhear the Captain on several occasions, managing to do so without the Captain noticing. Khal Alikan's Valdemaran was excellent, if a little stiff and formal, but Ragnar thought he could detect a touch of a Karsite accent.

"Good, Einarson. Now point him out to me and I'll set up a rotation for others to watch him.' Ritter said.

"Why not just let me follow him?" Ragnar asked. The lieutenant just stared at him, smiling slightly. Ragnar realized Ritter expected him to figure out the answer. After a moment, Ragnar said "If I'm hanging around him too much, he's going to notice."

Lieutenant Ritter kept smiling. Ragnar thought a moment longer. "If he notices me watching, he'll realize we're on to him." Ragnar paused, then added "We can plant information on him."

"Very good." Ritter clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll be part of the rotation, but for now..." The lieutenant switched to Hardornen. "Get some weapons practice. Leutnant Yarr is waiting for you."

"Yes, my lord. Will I go Lieutenant Yarr for training." Ragnar replied in the same language.

"It's 'Leutnant', not 'Lieutenant' and you should address me as 'Leutnant', not 'my lord'." Alex Ritter gave the whole phrase correctly and made Ragnar repeat it twice before letting him go.

Ragnar grinned, saluted and went to the training room.

Ragnar shared the task of watching Khal Alikan over the next few days. Khal Alikan was staying at the Peregrine Arms under the name 'Ernst Miller'. The owner, who was one of Lieutenant Ritter's agents, kept a record of every time that Khal Alikan left the inn. The Karsite showed some interest in the Guard Post, but it soon became clear he was most interested in the Heralds, following them whenever he could. Ragnar even saw Khal Alikan taking notes after one encounter with Herald Bredin.

###

Two nights after Midwinter, Ragnar and Lieutenant Ritter sat in a booth in the Peregrine Arms, watching Khal Alikan watching the Heralds, who were planning to return to their circuits tomorrow.

"So what do you think of our little spy?" Lieutenant Ritter asked. Ritter spoke in a low monotone voice, calculated to be difficult to overhear in the hubbub of the tavern, but not obviously a whisper, which would attract attention.

"Not really a spy. More of a scout." Ragnar replied. "He's trying to get a measure of the Heralds, but he hasn't been asking many questions. He's making up his own mind."

Ritter smiled at Ragnar over his cup. "Very good. So, what do we do with him?"

Ragnar frowned. He avoided looking at their target. "He hasn't really done anything illegal. From the look of him he's highborn, which means he's probably an officer. If we arrest him, we can question him, but what good is he in jail? I could kill him on his way home, but that would tell the Karsites we know they are up to something."

Ritter laughed and slapped the table. "You have talent for this game. Go on."

Uncertain, Ragnar bit his lip. If he'd found a lone enemy in the field, he'd watch the man and follow him back to his comrades. It wasn't quite the same, but…. "I say we let him go home. We watch for him. Whenever he shows up again, we learn a bit more about what he's after."

Ritter laughed again. "Good man. When does he leave?"

Ragnar glanced at the four Heralds. "He'll head home as soon as they're gone."

"And?" Ritter raised an eyebrow.

"I'll follow him right up to the border." The lieutenant and scout grinned and tapped their cups together.

###

Lieutenant Ritter was a demanding taskmaster. He and Lieutenant Yarr drove Ragnar well beyond anything the boy had done before or would have considered trying. Ragnar rose to the challenge and pushed himself to his limits. Ritter and Yarr's smiles and nods of approval were all Ragnar needed to strive higher and push farther.

Occasionally, they would have to order Ragnar to take a break, knowing he had to refresh himself. "Life is more than training and study." Lieutenant Yarr told him when Trav Penrose invited Ragnar to join him and the other scouts for an evening in the tavern.

Winter meant Ragnar spent much of his time at the post and interacted more with the guardsmen than before. He got along well with most, who were interested his life in the clans.

Corporal Spears continued to express his dislike of Ragnar. Ragnar had his own plan for dealing with the Corporal. Whenever Hal Spears threw an insult, Ragnar would put on his 'crazy grin' and make motions of sharpening a knife. Sergeant Kelding's dismay at Ragnar's counters to Spears turned to horror when Ragnar added leaping in the air with screams and chopping motions with his hands, sometimes doing the latter even when Spears said nothing.

By spring day, a thoroughly unsettled Spears no longer said anything to Ragnar unnecessarily and went out of his way to avoid the 'pirate,' a word which largely disappeared from Spears' vocabulary.

###

Ragnar returned to his regular patrols in the spring. The main difference was that he now had a book of some sort with him every time he went out. Whether it was law, history, tactics or mathematics, Lieutenant Ritter had something for Ragnar to study each evening before he went to sleep. When Ragnar returned to the Guard Post, Ritter would test him on what he read.

Ragnar encountered the usual refugees and smugglers, including the 'irregulars' Like Szymon Lucja but by Midsummer, Sergeant Kelding noticed something strange: There were no bandits coming from Karse, not even the usual petty highwaymen. There were a few 'homegrown' Valdemaran bandits, but they were easily traced back to their home villages and generally turned out to be no more than local toughs with big ideas. For some reason, Karse had stopped sending bandits into Valdemar.

"We have to investigate." Lieutenant Ritter said. "You are going to Karse soon. I'll let you know when."

Ragnar continued to make regular patrols and it was nearly a fortnight before Ritter summoned him one afternoon. They saddled up and rode southwest, stopping at a secluded campsite Ragnar had used himself on more than one occasion. They dismounted and set their horses to grazing. Ragnar longed to ask the lieutenant who they were waiting for but Ritter silenced him with a flick of his eyes.

About a candlemark later, a Herald and Companion entered the campsite. Their approach was so sudden and silent that it seemed they appeared out of nowhere. At first, Ragnar did not recognize the Herald, who wore Karsite clothing. Then he remembered Herald Eldan and Ratha, who had passed through Gillhold twice while Ragnar served there.

Ragnar smiled and opened his mouth to greet them, but Eldan put a finger to his lips and shook his head.

Eldan dismounted and took a seat around the empty firepit. "You don't know me. You have never seen me and this meeting never took place." The Herald said. At Ragnar's nod, Eldan went on. "The lieutenant told me that your job is not to gather intelligence but to check out the bandit trails to see if anything is happening there."

Alex Ritter nodded. "Exactly. I don't want you to go anywhere near the villages or talk to anyone. Do not attempt to make contact and leave no sign you were there." He pulled a paper out of his saddlebag. "This is a map of the known bandit trails and campsites near the border. It also shows villages and known shepherd's cots and homesteads. Avoid them. You shouldn't go any further than five miles from the border. All I want to know is if there are bandits moving on those trails. Do not take any chances. I only want to know if there are any around. This is a case where incomplete information is better than no information at all. Don't take any chances. We need you to get back."

"I haven't heard any stories of bandit raids on the Karsite side lately. Maybe the Sunpriests are cracking down or maybe they are up to something." Eldan added. "I'm here to give you some basic rules for working inside Karse.

"First. Do not use your mindspeech. Ever. Those Sunpriests have ways of finding mindspeakers. Mindspeech is a 'witch power' and they burn anyone who has it."

Lieutenant Ritter looked at Ragnar in surprise. He hadn't known. Eldan caught his speculative look and turned on the officer. "We've known about Ragnar's mindspeech for years. He is under strict orders never to use it except in dire emergencies. 'Dire emergencies' do not include spying for you. Don't even think of asking him to probe another's mind." Ritter grimaced and subsided.

Eldan turned back to Ragnar. "Second, I recommend you come back to Valdemar every night. You won't be far from the border, so that shouldn't present a problem. There are _things_ the Sunpriests send out at night. _Things_ out of nightmares. You do not want to be anywhere they can catch you." From the way Eldan spoke, Ragnar guessed that the Herald had experience with the _'things'._

"You might have a general sense of _wrongness_ while you are in Karse. If you feel it getting worse or it wears you down, come home immediately. If you approach an area and it gets worse, move away from it. There are some really evil things in Karse and you don't want to meet them." Seeing Eldan's grim expression, Ragnar gulped and nodded.

"Finally, if you get the feeling of being _watched_ or someone sees you, run for the border. As fast as you can. Don't stop for anything. You cannot possibly fight what they will send after you."

At Ragnar's nod, they turned to the map, which Lieutenant Ritter spread out in front of them. Ritter showed Ragnar the places he wanted Ragnar to check out. Eldan showed him places to avoid and how to go around them.

Briefing done, they rose and shook hands. Eldan mounted and Ragnar bowed to Ratha, who bobbed his head in return before the Herald and Companion disappeared as silently as they had come. Ragnar and Lieutenant Ritter returned to the guard post.

###

Ragnar slipped out of Redruth in the grey pre-dawn the next morning. It was normal for scouts to leave early and Trav Penrose and Myn Woyjik went out at the same time, though they were on more regular patrols. Trav and Myn knew that Ragnar's mission was 'different' and said nothing as they went their own ways.

At midmorning, Ragnar entered Karse just south of Tulle. The 'wrongness' Eldan warned about hit him almost immediately. Ragnar paused about two hundred yards inside the border. The sensation was annoying but mild. He didn't feel 'watched' and it was not getting worse. It was almost like a stench – bad but bearable. He rode on.

Ragnar found nothing. No bandits were using the trails. He found old campsites, but no one had used them this year. There were signs of refugees and smugglers, but no sign of raiders. Once, Ragnar saw a patrol of Sunlancers, but they were so lackadaisical and noisy that Ragnar could watch them from a mile away. He carefully checked their backtrail to see if they were acting as bait, but there were no stealthy followers. Ragnar concluded they were a routine patrol, likely bored and, by Valdemaran standards, poorly trained.

He spotted refugees twice. Following Ritter's orders, he made no contact with them but left messages about them along with his reports at the pre-arranged drop-points on the Valdemar side of the border.

He did come back to Valdemar every night. On the fifth night of his patrol, he made camp only a hundred yards from the border. Just after full dark, he sensed a _malignance_ on the Karsite side: Something so evil and full of hate that his hair rose. He turned and faced it. Involuntarily, he clutched the Adrian's pendant and Szymon's Sundisk on his chest and breathed a prayer.

A feeling of strength and support suffused him. To his spirit sense, a vision of the Eagle surrounded him, its aura casting light into the darkness. There were other spirits as well: On his right, one he recognized as the Windrider and on his left, a huge cat. Confronted by the spirits, the malignance seemed to flee into the darkness. The benign spirits vanished, though Ragnar could have sworn the cat gave a sniff of amusement before it disappeared.

Ragnar slept poorly that night, wondering if he should continue his mission. In the morning, he decided he was probably safe during the day, but he moved five miles west before re-entering Karse.

Ragnar finished his patrol near Foxboro on the night of the full moon. He camped again at the oxbow where Captain Mazur wiped out the bandits.

At midnight, Ragnar cast the stones at the place of power: The crisis was near. The winged stone, the twin glittering stones, the betrayer and the black stone were gathering. The other white stone was near at hand. There would be a confrontation soon.

###

Two days later, Ragnar gave his negative report to Lieutenant Ritter, who took him to Colonel Chase.

After Ragnar repeated his report, Colonel Chase looked at the lieutenant. "They're up to something Alex. 'By the pricking of my thumbs' and all that. I wish I had a clue what they are planning, when and where."

Ragnar thought about telling her of his casting, but decided not to. The Colonel's reason told her as much as the spirits told Ragnar.

Colonel Chase fixed Ragnar with her one good eye. "That was a damned good mission, lad. I am going to put in a request to move you into the regular guard from the auxiliaries. I wish I had a dozen like you. For now, you and the other scouts are going to have to do the work of a dozen. You are going to be out full time until either this thing breaks or the start of winter. Sorry to drop this load on you."

Ragnar smiled and thanked her before she dismissed them.


	16. Chapter 16 - Loyalties

_**Warning: Graphic Content**_

Chapter 16 – Loyalties

" _The destiny of man is in his own soul." - Herodotus_

Ragnar counted the intruders carefully. Forty men, plus the three leading the column, riding in a double file. Half, in their turbans and bright sashes, were obviously Sunlancers. Ragnar recognized the Karsite Captain from the latter's spying expedition the previous Midwinter, though the Captain had not been in uniform at the time. The others were bandits of some sort, though they looked better trained and equipped than any Ragnar had seen before. He focussed his spyglass on the bandit leader, looking for something to identify him. When the man turned to look at the men following, Ragnar saw the firedrake sigil. The commander was a former Tedrel and likely many of his men were as well. Tedrels and Sunlancers, obviously on a raid of some sort.

Ragnar studied the group, picking out details. He knew that he had to report this to Redruth immediately, but Lieutenant Ritter had drilled him in the need for accurate and complete information. His eye fell on the third man at the front. Ragnar gasped in shock as the warnings of his castings came back to him. This man – this obviously Valdemaran man – was the betrayer the stones had warned about. Oddly, while one part of him raged at this man, Ragnar's Gift took the knowledge coldly, fitting it into the Eagle's guidance. Ragnar sensed this was a cusp in his life.

Nothing further caught his eye. Time to go. Ragnar slipped away from his concealment and over the ridge to where his horses waited. In a moment, he was on Flash's back, racing back to Redruth with Nip galloping beside.

###

Nip was breathing hard as Ragnar urged the exhausted horse on; a tired Flash loped beside them. Ragnar had changed horses five times since sighting the invaders, trying to conserve his mounts' energies for maximum speed over the long race back to the guardpost. He had kept their rests as short as he dared and felt sorry for them as they sweated, but the urgent need to report what he had seen forced him to sacrifice their comfort. Ragnar sweated and panted himself from the toll of the day, sparing himself even less than the horses.

He rounded a bend and emerged from the trees. The road was barely visible in the moonless night. At last, he could see the lights of Redruth ahead. He booted Nip into a final gallop, asking the horse for a final burst of speed. A few sunwidths later, he pulled Nip to a halt before the gate. The guards on top of the gate aimed their lanterns at him.

"Ragnar! Are you running from something?" Corporal Spears mocked.

"Karsite attack!" Ragnar gasped out. "The Karsites have crossed the border!"

"Right. Is this some joke?" Spears began. "Or are you running…."

Colonel Chase was already at the window above. "Spears! Don't be an ass. Open the gate. I'll be down immediately."

Ragnar saluted the Colonel as she emerged from the building. Still breathing hard, he said. "I saw forty men, half Sunlancers, half bandits, cross the border around mid-morning."

"Where was this?" Colonel Chase demanded.

"At Fulda Gap, Sir." Ragnar said.

"That son-of-a-bitch!" The colonel exclaimed. Despite his weariness, Ragnar looked at the commander in surprise.

Captain Tewkes-Felthan, who stood beside the colonel, said what she thought. "They're going to Thanesholding. That traitorous bastard must have been plotting with the Karsites." Nearby, Lieutenant Ritter nodded, remembering Ragnar's reports of the previous winter. Fulda Gap was the natural route from Karse to Thanesholding.

"Prepare to move out at first light." Colonel Chase ordered. "Captain Mazur and his company will hold Redruth until I return. Everyone else will come with me. I want couriers out to White Foal, Cordor and Lisle Guardposts as well as every Herald nearby." She spotted Sergeant Kelding. "Kelding, who is your best night scout? I need him off to Heralds Bredin and Kensie immediately."

"That would be Einarson, Sir. But he's run himself to nothing." Sergeant Kelding replied. "I'll send Trav Penrose."

"I can do it." Ragnar protested.

"You're exhausted. Your horses are exhausted. Tired men make mistakes. Tired horses stumble." Colonel Chase quashed Ragnar's objection. She turned back to the sergeant. "Send Penrose. Warn him that bandits and Sunlancers are nearby. He is to avoid them and get a warning to the Heralds. That is his first priority."

Quietly, her officers and men went about organizing the mission, seeing that everything was ready for the morning. Keeping Lieutenant Ritter with her, Colonel Chase turned back to Ragnar. "Give me the details." She ordered.

"The Sunlancer captain was the man Lieutenant Ritter and I followed at Midwinter. The leader of the bandits wore a Tedrel sigil on his surcoat." The colonel's eyes narrowed and she pressed her lips together. Ragnar paused, taken aback by the hate in her expression.

"Go on." She ordered. "I want your assessment of the men."

"The bandits are better armed and more disciplined than any I've seen before. They had uniform and proper helmets and gear." Ragnar said. "The Sunlancers carried standard lances, swords and shields. Only the officers had metal breastplates, the rest wore boiled leather. Except for the two leaders' mounts, the horses were ordinary. I saw two scouts: One at point and another flanking on my side of the line. I did not see a rearguard."

Lieutenant Ritter smiled slightly. Ragnar hadn't intended to boast, but it was clear he had bested the Karsite scouts in the duel of 'who saw who.'

"What about pack animals?" Colonel Chase asked.

"Four mules. Two attached to each file."

"Hmm. They're on a raid, not a campaign." She mused aloud. "Anything else?"

"There was a third man with the two leaders. He was dressed in Valdemaran style and looked highborn. His horse had a Verden brand." Horses from the Verden region were well regarded, though not the equals of Ashkevrons. Many minor Valdemaran nobles rode them, but other kingdoms had their own comparable breeds and Verden horses had no foreign buyers. Only a Valdemaran would ride one. Ragnar did not add what his Gift told him about the man; this was a military, not a spiritual matter.

"Tholan damned traitor." The colonel said angrily. "I'm willing to wager he's the same man who visited Elias Thane in Watford." Ragnar blinked. A flash of his spirit sense told him the Colonel's words were true.

She asked Ragnar a few more questions, then ordered him to bed. "Good work, scout. Rest up. We'll need you in the morning."

Ragnar saluted her as she turned away. He started unsteadily towards his quarters. Sergeant Kelding took his arm and supported him. The sergeant almost force-fed Ragnar before allowing him to sleep. Ragnar didn't remember pulling the sheet over himself.

###

Sergeant Kelding roused Ragnar just before the troops moved out. Tosh was already saddled and Whip, Kelding's own spare horse, was tethered to Tosh's saddle. A groggy Ragnar barely had time for a quick visit to the privy and wash before Kelding threw him into Tosh's saddle. Kelding handed Ragnar a saddle breakfast of an apple, a sweet roll and three hard-boiled eggs before mounting himself.

The first hint of grey showed in the east as they rode out the gate. Ragnar looked at Kelding in bewilderment. Scouts were responsible for their own preparations.

"You needed to rest. You wore yourself to a nub yesterday. If we didn't need you now, I would have ordered you to sleep until noon." Kelding said. There was an odd look of possessive pride in the sergeant's face.

Once the grey in the east turned to true morning twilight, the colonel increased the pace to a quick march. Ragnar fretted, anxious to get to Thanesholding, though he knew that the Karsites and bandits had probably arrived there yesterday. Nothing could be done without the guardsmen, who were marching hard and fast. Colonel Chase told her troopers what she knew and of the danger to the Heralds. Ragnar could see their determination on their faces and in the sweat that soaked their uniforms.

Colonel Chase knew how to get the most from her troops. She marched them hard, but stopped for short rests every two candlemarks so they could refresh themselves. At midmorning, they stopped once more.

"No! No!" Ragnar shouted, startling everyone around him. "We have to go. Now."

"Einarson! What's the meaning of this?" Colonel Chase demanded. Ragnar ignored her and began tightening Tosh's girth. Sergeant Kelding and Art Scranton tackled him before he could mount. They pinned him to the ground as the Colonel stalked over.

Ragnar continued to fight. "Let me go. They're dead. Let me go!"

Colonel Chase slapped his face. "If they are dead, you cannot help them. If they are still alive, you cannot rescue them alone." The colonel's cold logic stopped Ragnar's struggles. He closed his eyes and wept.

"Fall in!" Colonel Chase ordered. The guardsmen obeyed and resumed their march. Riding beside the colonel, Captain Tewkes-Felthan thought he saw a tear in her eye.

A candlemark from Thanesholding, they topped a rise to see a pillar of smoke rising from the area of the village. "Double time!" Colonel Chase ordered. "Scranton! Scout ahead."

"Not you." Sergeant Kelding held Tosh's reins, preventing Ragnar from following.

Art Scranton met the column a mile from the village. "All dead. The bandits have headed back to Karse."

"Including?" Colonel Chase asked.

"Including." The scout confirmed, blinking back tears of his own.

The guardsmen entered the cleared fields surrounding the smoking ruins of the village half a candlemark later. They headed for two white shapes amid the blackened remains.

"The bastards!" Urson shouted as he spied the bodies of Lacaral and Losanir. The Karsites had taken the Companions' heads as trophies. Bredin and Kensie's bodies were nowhere to be found.

Ragnar wheeled Tosh and galloped south, following the broad trail left by the raiders.

"Ragnar! Get back here!" Sergeant Kelding shouted. Ragnar ignored him. He heard Kelding and Scranton chasing after him and spurred Tosh harder. They could not catch Ragnar before he crossed the border.

###

Ragnar knew the exact moment he crossed into Karse. The _wrongness_ he felt before surrounded him again. He pushed it back. Somehow, from within himself, he made a shield against the _wrong_ and pushed it back. Even as he plunged deeper into Karse, his mind cleared. He had a purpose: Recover the remains of the lost and bring them home. He would not allow them to be sacrificed to evil.

The sun had just set as he crested a ridge and saw the barracks and village below. There, beyond doubt, was the source of the evil he fought. Deliberately, he walked Tosh towards it.

###

Hierophant Rhithik grinned as he offered more wine to his 'guests'. Hierophants Harrak and Adalbert were both members of Conclave factions fiercely opposed to Rhithik's activities and ambitions. They were also passively opposed to his father Lastern, but too politically powerful to dislodge or eliminate. Ostensibly, they were here 'to commune and consult' with Rhithik; their real purpose was to find fault with him and means to diminish his position.

Normally, Rhithik would resent their presence but now it was a perfect opportunity to flaunt his power and triumph over the hated Demon Riders. This was his chance to impress and intimidate his enemies while smoothing his own way to the Sun Throne. Less than a mark before, one of Ser Lavrenti's scouts had brought word of their successful mission, albeit the Heralds were dead rather than alive.

Harrak and Adalbert were both experienced Master Class mages. If he did not think he could dissuade them indirectly, Rhithik, as an adept, might have attempted direct magical coercion. It would not be easy, but he thought he could do it.

Unfortunately, the two Hierophants had brought protection in the form of a 'Secretary.' Rhithik had known Ulrich from his earliest days as an acolyte. The fortyish Uber-priest and candidate for the Conclave was a very powerful adept, capable of drawing on major nodes. Not only was Ulrich vastly more powerful than Rhithik, he was an extremely skilled mage who used magic subtly and effectively. If Rhithik dueled Ulrich, Rhithik knew Ulrich would win.

Ulrich apparently had no ambitions of his own, being one of the 'True Priests' as Rhithik and other ambitious members of the Conclave termed those who avoided involvement in the Conclave politics, devoting them to their studies and their priesthood. Ulrich might be a powerful adept, but his lack of ambition, for which Rhithik disdained him, meant he was no threat to Rhithik.

A servant whispered in Rhithik's ear. "Come, Your Graces. See how I have humbled the White Demons." Rhithik rose and led them into the square.

Ser Lavrenti Ionescu stood proudly in the square. Before him lay the bodies of two young men, both clad in white uniform that were heavily stained with blood. "It is my honor to present you with two White Demons, brought down by your plan." The mercenary said.

Rhithik turned his head and looked at Harrak and Adalbert, triumph and pride on his face. "I can destroy our great enemy. I will wipe the Demon Riders from the world and Valdemar shall bow to Vkandis."

After a long pause, Adalbert said. "How do we know these are White Demons? They could be any two corpses dressed in white uniforms."

Rhithik sneered at Adalbert before turning back to Ser Lavrenti. "Show them."

The mercenary led a horse forward. Two lumpy packs were bound on its back. Ser Lavrenti drew his sword and cut the bindings. The packs tumbled to the ground and rolled open, revealing the white heads of two Demon Horses.

Adalbert and Harrak made sun-signs as wards against evil.

"Do not be afraid." Rhithik mocked. "They are dead. You may inspect them if you like."

Harrak shot Rhithik a look of pure loathing. The two Hierophants gingerly walked forward, covering their mouths and noses against the stench of decay.

"You do not need to do that." Rhithik mocked again. "I had a Red Robe meet them at the border and place a geas against decay. I need to keep them intact to present them in the Great Temple."

"You will not." The Karsite was clear if heavily accented. Everyone looked at the far side of the square. A big young man on a small horse glared at them. He had an arrow nocked. He was dressed in rough clothes like a scout's. There was a prominent scar across his forehead.

###

Over the arrow in his bow, Ragnar surveyed the scene. In the middle of the square lay the bodies of Bredin and Kensie with the heads of Lacaral and Losanir beside them. The Tedrel bandit stood over them possessively, staring at Ragnar with contempt and loathing. On the far side, three Sunpriests, dressed in black robes and loaded with ecclesiastical jewelry looked back at him in startlement. A fourth priest, less richly dressed and with snow-white hair that seemed at odds with his age, stood to the side.

"You pirate scum!" Ser Lavrenti drew his sword and charged at Ragnar.

Ragnar's arrow took him in the eye and the Tedrel dropped like a stone. Before anyone could react, Ragnar had another arrow nocked.

Captain Alikan cursed himself for dismissing the troops. "Don't move!" He warned the others. "I heard of this one when I spied on their guard. He's a pirate from the Great Lake and he is deadly with that bow."

"Allow me to deal with him, Captain." Rhithik's voice was oily smooth. He _looked_ at Ragnar with his mage-sight. Such marvelous potential, so untrained and so vulnerable!

Rhithik faced Ragnar. "Why do you serve the Demon Riders, young warrior? They are your enemies. Join us against them." He put his most seductive tone in his voice.

Ragnar's spirit sense revolted against this one. The evil in him seemed an unfathomable darkness. The Karsite Priest was beyond _salach_ , beyond _gomgorru._ To ally himself with one such as this would be an unspeakable evil. Ragnar must stand against him. This was the cusp. Ragnar made his decision "I choose the Spirit Riders. I choose the Spirit Horses. I choose Valdemar. I am Valdemaran."

Rhithik's face twisted in a snarl. "So be it, _Valdemaran._ Your life, your energies, your soul are mine."

There was a movement behind Ragnar, a sound of hoofbeats that chimed oddly. The new presence was reassuring rather than frightening. Ragnar sat straighter in Tosh's saddle.

Rhithik's snarl turned to a nauseating grin. "This is getting better by the moment." Before Ragnar's eyes, an ominous red glow manifested around Rhithik's hands. Frightened but steadfast, Ragnar prepared to loose his arrow at the Sunpriest. He prayed to the Eagle, to the Twain, to Vkandis, to every god he had ever heard of for help.

A brilliant glow filled the square and took form around Ragnar. A huge spirit eagle enfolded him, its mystical wings spread wide. To his right, the Windrider reared with widespread wings and hooves striking the air. To his left a huge Spirit Cat snarled at the Sunpriest.

Except for the Sunpriests and Captain Alikan, everyone fled screaming from the square. Only Rhithik acted. With a roar of rage, Rhithik hurled something dark and evil at Ragnar.

 _::Allow me to guide you.::_ Said a feminine voice in his head. Ragnar yielded his mind to the source. A channel opened and a torrent of energy poured through Ragnar. It collided with Rhithik's summoning and hurled it back at the Sunpriest, who screamed in terror and pain as it struck him.

Adalbert and Harrak turned and fled. Only Ulrich and Khal Alikan remained. Rhithik continued to scream under the torments of his creature. Ragnar saw the other priest summon energies, wondering what he would do. Instead of attacking Ragnar, the priest banished Rhithik's creature. After it was gone, Rhithik continued to scream with pain; his body lacerated with ugly wounds. Now the priest turned his energies to Rhithik, putting him to sleep.

The priest faced Ragnar. "I think, young adept, you have won." His eyes flicked to a point behind Ragnar and his lips flicked in a smile. "Or should I say, young Demon Rider? Take what you seek and return to your chosen home."

The priest gestured at Captain Alikan. The two of them lifted Rhithik's limp form and carried him away. Rhithik moaned and drew rasping breaths as they carried him.

The manifestations around Ragnar faded. Now, he turned and looked behind him.

 _::I am Mikizi. I Choose you.::_

Mikizi? The name meant 'eagle' but….

A very female voice laughed in his mind. _::Haven't you noticed that female eagles are larger than males?::_

Ragnar laughed, then sobered as he remembered where he was.

 _::Yes. Let us take them Home.::_ She said.

Ragnar dismounted from Tosh. Sorrowfully, he put the bodies of Bredin and Kensie back onto the pack mules. He wept as he wrapped the heads of Lacaral and Losanir and packed them on the horse. He mounted Mikizi and rode north. Tosh trotted wearily at Mikizi's side.

Once clear of the town, Ragnar thought about what had happened. He probed the new channel, which ached slightly. Memories returned…

###

 _ **Ragnar and the other initiates sat in the Sacred Grove. Tonight was their Vision Quest. They would seek guidance and inspiration from the Eagle in Visions.**_

 _ **That afternoon, Shaman Kadir told them that a Vision Quest was not a foretelling, but a telling of themselves. They might see their true selves or gain insight into the world. If they saw a future, it was not a Destiny, but a warning or a goal.**_

 _ **The sat in a circle. Shaman Kadir honored Ragnar, insisting the boy sit on his right, on the east side of the circle. Ragnar could sense the great power in the center, a mighty force that reached out to the north between the trees along the path aimed at the center of the Great Water as though it anchored something.**_

 _ **The night was clear and Ayawin shone bright, her full face illuminated. It was a good omen. Even better, the ancestors danced brightly, their green fire whirling across the sky.**_

 _ **The boys began the ritual chant, calling on the Eagle, on Ayawin and the ancestors. The chant went on and time lost meaning.**_ **Forms** _ **began to dance around the boys, calling upon them. Ragnar blinked in astonishment as one of the**_ **Forms** _ **touched Hagal and Hagal's spirit seemed to lift out of his body and dance the Eagle dance. The spirits of other boys rose and danced as well. Ragnar felt disappointment as none came for him.**_

 _ **Midnight came and Shaman Kadir cast the stones. Ragnar's jaw dropped as the Eagle manifested on the north side. The Eagle's eyes seemed to bore into his. Oddly, only Kadir seemed aware of the Eagle. The other boys began to wake from their trances, glowing smiles on their faces. They looked eager to talk, but Kadir silenced them with a gesture. Ragnar continued to stare at the Eagle, vaguely aware that the other boys were looking at him oddly. When the last of them came out of his trance, Kadir sent them back to the village. They held their silence until they were out of sight, then began chattering among themselves.**_

 _ **Shaman Kadir touched Ragnar's shoulder, bidding him rise. He positioned Ragnar in the center of the circle. Ragnar sensed a torrent of power coursing through him. He looked at the Eagle's eyes. The Eagle nodded its head.**_

 _ **The vision rocked Ragnar. He stood in the middle of a storm. It was the Jyarakstorm – the storm at the beginning and end of the world – and Ragnar held a cord of power that stretched from where he stood to the middle of the Great Water. From the North, East and West, others held other cords that stretched out to the same place. They must hold their cords until the storm passed. Hold them or the World would end.**_

 _ **The vision passed and Ragnar fainted. When he woke, Kadir knelt beside him and helped him to sit up on the west side of the circle. In the east, Ragnar could see dawn was near. He looked at Kadir, full of questions.**_

" _ **A geas has been laid upon you tonight." Kadir said. "You have a great power which may be the key to everything. I have power, but nowhere near so great as yours. I cannot train you. My Vision tells me you must travel far and follow many paths to get the training you need. Until you are trained, you are a danger to us all. Will you permit me to place a barrier between you and that power until you can be trained? If you permit this, you will forget your vision for a time."**_

 _ **Ragnar shuddered at the vision memory of the Jyarakstorm. The power was terrifying. "I will be a danger to everyone?" He asked.**_

" _ **Your power is like unto a great storm to a small kayak in the middle of the Great Water. The Clans are the riders in that kayak. You could drown us all."**_

" _ **What if I say no?" Ragnar asked.**_

" _ **Though I have less power than you, I have the experience to overcome your power. But that would be wrong. I will not without your permission."**_

 _ **Ragnar shuddered again. "I will permit it."**_

" _ **Look into my eyes." Kadir said.**_

 **###**

Ragnar sighed. He probed the channel once more, which still ached. He glanced down at Mikizi. The mare's hide seemed to glow in the night.

 _::Now you remember.::_ She said.

 _::I do. Will you train me?::_ He asked.

 _::I could show you everything about using that potential.::_ She said. _::Your Shaman set that block to open the channel at need, which is why I was able to work through you against that…creature.::_

Ragnar was unsure whether she meant the priest or the thing he called.

 _::They were one and the same.::_ Mikizi said. Her mindvoice was full of hate.

Ragnar focused on what Mikizi said. _::You said you_ could _show me. Not that you would.::_

 _::Very good, Chosen. That Spirit Gift of yours needs no training at all.::_ Mikizi's flanks heaved in a powerful sigh. _::If I simply showed you, you would not get the experience of learning to use that potential. The why-for is as important as the how-to. There will be others, others whose paths will bring them to you as teachers. As you learn from them, step by step you will learn both the how-to and the why-for. It is best they grow together.::_

Ragnar deduced her direction. He remembered how Kadir had asked his consent. _::You are asking me for permission to block the channel again.::_

 _::Yes, Chosen, I am.::_ Mikizi's mindvoice was full of love.

 _::I trust you. Will I lose the memory again as well?::_

 _::You can keep the memories.::_ There was a chuckle in her mindvoice as she felt her mind envelope his. He felt a brief moment of vertigo. _::There. Done.::_

Ragnar probed the channel once again. It was there, but he could not touch it. The ache was gone as well. _::Thank you love.::_

They continued north.

###

"Companion coming!" Private Orser shouted. All eyes turned to the south, where Orser was on picket duty. The guardsmen could make out the white shape of the Companion and heard the soft tinkling of bridle bells, but it was too dark to make out the rider, who was not wearing whites. In a few moments, they could make out the forms of horses around the Companion.

Only when the Companion drew close enough for their lanterns to illuminate him could they make out the rider. It was Ragnar. Tosh trotted faithfully beside the Companion. Three other horses followed, secured by a lead to the Companion's saddle. Two bore what were obviously bodies, the third bore the severed heads of Lacaral and Losanir.

The guardsmen wept as they laid the bodies of Bredin and Kensie beside those of their Companions, whose heads they put roughly in place.

Sergeant Kelding handed Ragnar a torch, which he used to light the pyre. Done, Ragnar threw the torch on the logs and stood back, placing his hand on his Companion's shoulder.

The flames caught and the pyre quickly blazed up. Flames soared high into the night sky. Urson swore he saw the flames take the shape of the Windrider, towering over the pyre.

The ferocious blaze quickly consumed most of the pile of wood and remains before it settled to a much lower burning. Ragnar looked up where the ancestor's dance filled the sky with green fire. Amid the flickering green, four white shapes danced. Were they men or horses?

 _::We are not horses!::_ Ragnar smiled and stroked Mikizi's neck.

"Now you are sons of the Eagle." Ragnar said to the white shapes amid the green.

"What did you say, Ragnar?" Urson asked at his side.

 _::Say it in Valdemaran, Chosen.::_

Ragnar blinked. He had spoken in the language of the clans. After a small, quick smile at Urson, he looked up once more and repeated in Valdemaran. "Now you are sons of the Eagle."


	17. Chapter 17 - Shades of Grey

Chapter 17 – Shades of Grey

" _The gray area – the place between black and white – that's the place where life happens." – Justin Timberlake_

Captain Khal Alikan helped Uber-priest Ulrich lay Rhithik's lacerated body on the bed. The unconscious Rhithik moaned in pain as a Red Robe Healer-Priest came forward to tend his wounds. The Captain glanced at Hierophants Harrak and Adalbert, who stood outside the doorway and gloated over Rhithik's fall. After this disaster, Rhithik was finished. His rivals would tell the story of what happened here and Rhithik would never achieve his goal.

Khal Alikan shuddered. It was all very well for the Conclave priests, who had their factions to support them, but what of him? Rhithik still had more power than the Captain. Rhithik would take out his anger on someone, especially someone who had witnessed the Black Robe priest's humiliation.

Ulrich touched Khal Alikan's shoulder. "Come, young man. Let us leave the healers to their work." He led the captain out the door. Khal Alikan bowed to Harrak and Adalbert as he passed them. They nodded as he went by, broad grins on their faces. Though they were pleased by Rhithik's disgrace, they would do nothing to protect Captain Alikan. Worse, they would probably drag Khal before the Conclave to testify what he had seen. That would make Khal Alikan the enemy of all who supported Rhithik, including the Son of the Sun himself. He would be marked for a painful, humiliating death. Khal Alikan's only chance to save himself and his family was to flee.

The Uber-priest walked beside Khal as they left the building and crossed the square itself. They paused beside the body of Ser Lavrenti, which remained untouched on the cobbles. "You cannot remain here, Captain." Ulrich said. "There is no place in Karse that is safe. For you or your family."

Khal Alikan looked at Ulrich in surprise, astonished that a Sunpriest would advise him thus.

Ulrich gave a wan smile. "Just because I despise Rhithik does not mean I do not know how he thinks."

Khal felt a chill down his spine. Such words were dangerous. If they were overheard….

"I am fully capable of knowing when I am watched." Ulrich seemed to read his thoughts. "No one noticed that we left together. I made sure of that." Ulrich gave Khal Alikan a stern look. "Rhithik will remember once he is well enough. It is best you are long out of sight and out of reach when he does."

"But where can I go?" Khal asked.

Ulrich's eyes flicked towards the north. "You know where you must go. There is only one place where Rhithik cannot reach you."

Khal Alikan gasped. "But I helped kill the Demon Riders. They will tear me to bits and kill my children before my eyes."

"You saw them when you spied on them, Captain Alikan. Did they seem that way when you walked among them? I have seen many reports from spies, including those of other countries. The Valdemarans do not harm the innocent. Nor do they indulge in needless cruelty. It is possible they may hang you, though I think they will not. But they will not harm your family." Ulrich's voice carried his conviction.

Khal Alikan sighed. "Very well, we will leave in the morning."

"No. Leave tonight. Take your family and every living thing you care about, including your servants. Be across the border by sunrise."

"But the Night Demons…." Khal protested.

"The Night Demons will not be about tonight. I can see to that." Ulrich said flatly.

Khal Alikan looked at him in disbelief. Could this be a trap?

Again, Ulrich seemed to read his thoughts. "If I wished to offer you to the Demons, I could send them to your house tonight. No one here has the power to prevent me from doing so."

"I will be seen as a traitor." Captain Alikan knew of the hatred that the Sunpriests poured on Alberich, 'the Great Traitor.'

Ulrich snorted. "Has Rhithik kept faith with you? Is not your true faith and duty to Vkandis and the family he has blessed you with? You will find that there is often a grey area in such things."

Khal thought of the practicalities. "But my horse is tired and I do not have the beasts to carry all of us."

Ulrich gave a conspiratorial smile. "There are many fine beasts in Rhithik's stables. Take your horse as well, unless you wish him tortured in your place. He may be tired, but he can go with you if he is unburdened."

Khal Alikan swallowed hard. He loved Osrick. He had seen Rhithik torture even children's pets in his anger. He could not leave his horse to that.

"Thank you, Sunblessed." For once, Khal Alikan gave the honorific address with true respect. He kissed Ulrich's hand.

"Go with Vkandis' blessing." Ulrich said.

Khal Alikan turned and walked hurriedly to his quarters. Marga was a good, obedient wife. She was also shrewd enough to know their danger if they stayed. As he left the square, he saw Ulrich holding his lantern over the body of Ser Lavrenti.

###

Ragnar woke with the sun shining in his face. The smell of wood-smoke still filled the air, though the breeze might soon blow it off.

 _::Good morning, sleepyhead.::_ Mikizi stood nearby, her head in a bucket of grain.

 _::Good morning, My Lady.::_ Ragnar replied, smiling at the sight of her. He sat up and shook his head.

"Would you like some breakfast, Herald?" Ragnar looked around to see Corporal Spears.

"Yes, I would, Corporal. Where can I find it?" He rolled to his feet.

"Follow me, please, Herald." Spears said.

"I'm not a Herald, yet. I'm just a Herald Trainee." Ragnar remembered what Adrian had told him while he was at Gillhold.

Corporal Spears looked at him uncomfortably. "I was wrong about you, Einarson. You proved that last night. By my lights, what you did means you are a Herald, through and through."

Ragnar looked at Hal Spears in surprise. "Why, thank you, Corporal. Can we be friends?" He offered his hand.

Hal Spears took Ragnar's hand eagerly. "I'd be honored to be a Herald's friend. Especially you."

Ragnar followed him to a camp kitchen. He washed his hands and face in the basins set up outside, then picked up a plate to join the line. The soldiers in the line stood aside, insisting Ragnar go first. Ragnar tried to wave off their deference, but finally gave in after Mikizi pointed out that he was holding everyone up.

"This way, Herald." Sergeant Fox led him over to where Heralds Amos and Lars sat on a blanket laid on the ground. Ragnar squatted down beside them. They smiled at him wanly and shook his hand.

"Welcome, brother." They both said.

The three ate in subdued silence for a while.

"Bredin was my yearmate." Lars began.

The three shared reminiscences of Kensie and Bredin until an orderly came to collect their plates.

"Now, about you." Amos said. "Normally, you and Mikizi would be off to Haven as fast as she could get you there."

Ragnar looked at him, inviting him to continue.

Amos gestured at the ruins of Thanesholding and the ashes of the pyre. "There is going to be an inquiry and you will have to testify. That is going to take several days, so you are going to be delayed. Do you have a problem with that?"

Ragnar shrugged. "Not really." He sent a thought to Mikizi. _::How about you?::_

 _::Chosen, where you are, there am I. It's necessary, so we will.::_

"Mikizi says yes." Ragnar said.

Amos' eyes widened. "Good to see you already have a good mindbond to her." He got a momentary distant look and laughed. "Belelme just reminded me you've been mindspeaking for years."

Captain Tewkes-Felthan came over. "We're ready to leave when you are, Heralds."

They glanced around to see that the guardsmen had broken camp and were forming up to march out. "We'll be right behind you, Captain. Don't wait for us. The Companions can catch up."

The Captain went back to the Colonel and the column marched off. Ragnar and the Heralds caught up before they were at the first milepost.

###

Being a Herald, or a Herald-Trainee, was not entirely comfortable. As a scout, Ragnar had a job; so long as he did the job, no one paid special attention to him: He came and went as one of the men at the guardpost. He ate with his fellow scouts and joined their conversations.

Now, people deferred to him. When he spoke, others ceased their own conversations to listen to his words. People asked his opinion, sometimes on topics he knew nothing about. He tried to talk with his former fellow scouts, but they were obviously uncomfortable in his presence. Instead of the easy banter he once enjoyed, he met polite formality and reserved respect. At meals, the orderly directed him to the colonel's table, seating him among the officers.

Ragnar could only have easy conversations with Heralds Amos and Lars and he had little in common with them. When he asked about his training, their constant answer was "That will be explained at the Collegium."

Captain Tewkes-Felthan, Lieutenant Ritter and Sergeant Kelding would talk to him sometimes, but they were busy and could spare little time. All of them took a possessive pride in his new status.

Even in the town, people who had once ignored him stopped to stare as he passed, whether or not he rode Mikizi. When he asked her, she said _::Sorry, Chosen. It is one of those things that go with being a Herald. You will learn to live with it.::_ A small boy rushed out and offered her an apple, which she gracefully accepted. _::However, it does have its perks.::_

Ragnar sought relief in the training room. He was pleased when, instead of deferring to him, Lieutenant Yarr drove him unmercifully, leaving Ragnar exhausted at the end of the bout. Lieutenant Yarr grinned wolfishly. "That was nothing. Now you are going to meet Herald Alberich."

###

On the third day of the inquest, there was a surprise witness.

A candlemark after breakfast, Sergeant Fox entered the room and approached Colonel Chase. The colonel listened to the sergeant's whispered message and looked at her in astonishment. "Are you sure of that, Sergeant?"

"That's what he claims, Sir." Sergeant Fox said. "He and his family are waiting in the parade ground."

The colonel banged her gavel and announced a recess. Most of those present followed her to the parade ground. Khal Alikan stood in the middle, surrounded by his family and servants.

Ragnar felt a flash of hatred as he recognized the Captain, who was still dressed in his Sunsguard uniform. His hand went to his knife. Herald Amos put a hand over his. The movement drew the Captain Alikan's attention; his eyes went wide as he recognized Ragnar.

"I am Colonel Chase, Redruth I command, what here brings you, Captain?" Her Karsite was heavily accented, but understandable.

"I am Captain Khal Alikan. I am captain of the Sunsguard assigned to Hierophant Rhithik, or I was. I have come here to beg sanctuary for my family and servants." The Captain's Valdemaran was excellent, though he trembled slightly as he spoke. His wife and three children looked around fearfully. The two servants, a man and a woman, trembled on either side.

Lieutenant Ritter whispered in the Colonel's ear. She frowned before turning back to the captain. She spoke in Valdemaran. "You ask for your family and servants, but what of yourself, Captain? My aide tells me you led a raid on Valdemar not a sennight ago. A raid that killed nearly two hundred villagers and two of our Heralds and their Companions."

Khal Alikan licked his lips and stiffened his spine. "I ask nothing for myself, only for my wife, children and servants. I am guilty of what you say. I did lead the raid and had a hand in those killings." His tone became pleading. "Do what you will with me, but spare my family. They had nothing to do with it."

"We do not take vengeance on the innocent. We will not harm your family. As for you, we will hear what you have to say before we pass judgement." Colonel Chase's eyes flicked to the Heralds. "Be warned that we will know if you speak the truth."

Captain Alikan followed her glance. He swallowed hard and tried to stand straighter. "Save my family, that is all I ask."

"Very well," the colonel said, "we will talk later. For now, we will see to your family." She saluted, turned and left. Captain Alikan returned her salute automatically.

Father Gagen came forward and introduced himself. The family looked at the priest in disbelief as he welcomed them in Karsite. After a bit of reassurance, they and the servants followed the priest to a quiet room. Khal Alikan hesitated until Lieutenant Ritter told him to go with his family. The lieutenant calculated that the Karsite would be more cooperative if he felt his family was safe.

###

Ragnar clenched his jaw and glared as he watched Captain Alikan go with Father Gagen. His eyes met the captain's, who blanched and looked away, making a quick sun-sign as he went.

 _::Three years ago, there were many who wished death on you.::_ Mikizi said. From Ragnar's own mind, she brought up the memory of Kensie in North Evendim, asking that Ragnar be spared.

 _::I didn't kill anyone.::_ Ragnar countered angrily.

 _::But you killed a creature he loved. And you have killed since.::_ Mikizi raised the memory of the young picket who looked like Bjorn.

"That's not fair!" Ragnar blurted aloud. "I had to do it." Amos and Lars, along with everyone nearby looked at Ragnar curiously. He blushed. _::I was following orders.::_

 _::So, my dear, was the Captain.::_ Mikizi's mindvoice was stern. _::And he knew his family would suffer if he did not. You could have said no.::_

 _::I would have been sent away.::_ Ragnar argued.

Mikizi was implacable. She snorted and filled her mindvoice with scorn. _::You would have lost your post. The captain would have seen his children burned before his eyes.::_ She sent an image of children writhing in flames as their parents begged for their lives.

Ragnar flinched, but said nothing. He returned to the inquiry, which proceeded in a desultory fashion for the rest of the morning: Everyone was eagerly awaiting the questioning of Captain Alikan.

###

A candlemark after lunch, Lieutenant Ritter escorted Captain Alikan to the inquiry. The room overflowed with people; everyone wanted to hear what the Karsite Captain had to say.

Khal Alikan entered the room with a determined stride, looking straight at Colonel Chase and the officers and Heralds around her. His rigid posture and tense expression showed his real fear; the Karsite Captain expected death and fortified himself for the ordeal.

Halting ten feet from the panel, he braced and saluted. Standing at attention, he spoke in Valdemaran. "I am Khal Alois Alikan. Until recently, I was a Sunsguard Captain, seconded to Hierophant Rhithik. At his orders, I spied upon you and led troops that sacked a village in your country. I am here to answer for what I have done." As he spoke, the blue glow of Herald Amos' Truth Spell surrounded him.

Colonel Chase returned his salute. "I am Colonel Greta Chase, commander of the garrison of Redruth. Please be seated, Captain." Khal hesitated. Colonel Chase added. "This is not a trial or a condemnation, Captain, but an inquiry. I think we will have many questions for you. It will be more comfortable if you took a seat."

Khal took the seat cautiously, as though the chair was a torture device.

"Perhaps the best way to begin is for you to tell us your story, beginning with who you are and how you came into the service of the priest." Colonel Chase said.

Khal took a deep breath. "I am Khal Alois Alikan. I am the third son of Duke Geerhard Corbin Alikan." Lieutenant Ritter's eyebrows went up. Duke Geerhard Alikan was the head of one of the most powerful highborn families in Karse.

For the rest of the afternoon, Khal Alikan told the story of how he came into Rhithik's service and what he had done. He spoke of his missions to Redruth and his clandestine meetings with Elias Thane the winter before.

He left out nothing and made no attempt to excuse himself. The Truth Spell never flickered. Reluctantly, Ragnar admired the captain's honesty before the hostile faces around him. When Khal Alikan described how Bredin and Kensie died, his voice became flat and tense. The assembled officers and men hissed with anger over the Heralds' deaths and Khal flushed. "They were brave men. I wish I had known them." He said, his voice suddenly harsh. An aide handed Khal a cup of water to clear his throat.

Ragnar thought he saw a tear at the corner of the captain's eye. _::You are not the only one whose duty conflicts with your conscience.::_ Mikizi said.

With the exception of Khal's description of the murders, Colonel Chase and her officers listened impassively while Khal Alikan spoke. Even in the two short breaks she ordered, they remained silent.

Near the end, Khal created one more stir. "When the young Demon Rider" – he pointed at Ragnar – "threw Hierophant Rhithik's demon back at him, everyone turned and fled."

As one, the officers and men looked at Ragnar with an expression of puzzlement, some mixed with a touch of fear. Heralds Amos and Lars raised their eyebrows and looked at him speculatively. Ragnar blushed furiously.

 _::Don't worry, Chosen. Heralds are mysterious. You are just a little more mysterious than most.::_ Mikizi teased.

"I knew that Hierophant Rhithik would take revenge on me and my family, so I fled here." Khal Alikan concluded. "Condemn me if you will, but please keep my family safe."

There was a long silence as the colonel stared at the captain. Eventually, she sighed. "As I said before, your family and servants are safe. We have granted sanctuary to many from Karse and will not withhold it for what you have done." Captain Alikan's shoulders slumped in relief.

"You will understand, captain, that we have many questions about what you have told us." She glanced at the time candle. "However, it is late and our questions must wait for tomorrow. In the meantime, go to your family and comfort them. This inquiry will meet again tomorrow after breakfast." She rapped her gavel lightly and rose.

The rest of the room rose after her. Lieutenant Ritter escorted the captain away; Ragnar followed him out the door. As they left the building, two small boys in Karsite clothing darted across the parade square, screaming "Daddy, daddy" in Karsite. Even if they had not rushed into Khal Alikan's arms, their faces and black hair showed clearly whose sons they were. A moment later, a girl with equally dark hair joined her brothers.

Ragnar smiled at the scene. His hatred of Khal Alikan waned. He did not want to break those children's hearts.

 _::That is part of why I Chose you.::_ Mikizi said.

###

The questioning of Khal Alikan took most of the next two days. The Truth Spell, held alternately by Amos and Lars, never wavered as the captain answered the questions put forth by Colonel Chase and her officers. Purposefully, the questioners asked only about Captain Alikan's own activities and the actions of the men under his command, avoiding anything that could be construed as asking him to betray Karsite secrets. (Though Lieutenant Ritter was able to deduce a great deal from what Khal did say.)

A candlemark after luncheon, there were no more questions. The colonel, her officers and the Heralds withdrew for a few sunwidths leaving spectators to murmur among themselves. Khal Alikan sat rigidly in his chair, anxiously awaiting their return. Ragnar stared at the back of the captain's head, unsure what to think.

The officers and Heralds returned, resuming their seats. "Captain Khal Alois Alikan." the Colonel began. Khal rose to attention, as though he were about to be condemned. "We have considered your conduct and actions as you have revealed to this inquiry. You have caused great injury and loss to Valdemar. Valdemar and Karse are not presently at war, but neither is there peace. We cannot excuse you, but understand that you had no choice in your actions. We therefore release you to go and find a new life. Our only command is that you obey the laws of Valdemar and do not injure this land. Do that, and you will betray none: Not Karse, not Valdemar and not Vkandis." She rapped her gavel. "You are dismissed."

Khal Alikan's shoulders slumped momentarily, then he drew himself up once more and saluted. "Thank you." He said. Lieutenant Ritter escorted him out once more.

###

Though they had questioned Ragnar earlier concerning the activities of Captain Alikan and spotting the invasion force, Colonel Chase summoned him once more to describe how he had recovered the bodies of Bredin and Kensie.

When she asked him how he had turned back Rhithik's 'Demon', Ragnar struggled for an explanation, saying that he really did not know what he had done. The colonel pressed him to try, but Herald Amos interrupted. "Many Gifts emerge unbidden in emergencies. They are often uncontrolled and uncontrollable. Herald Trainee Ragnar's Gifts are unknown at this time. He will need the experts at the Collegium to identify exactly what they are and to train him in their use. Asking him to explain his new abilities could cause confusion and hamper their development. However Ragnar Einarson overcame the Karsite Sunpriest is not material; suffice it to say that he did. Please leave this to us."

Colonel Chase looked at Herald Amos in irritation. Though he had phrased it as a request, she knew his veto overrode her question. She let the question drop and proceeded with a few more questions about how Ragnar returned to Valdemar after Mikizi Chose him.

Dismissed, Ragnar wandered out into the parade ground where Mikizi waited for him. He was stroking her neck when a small blur ran into his legs. Looking down, he saw the elder of Khal Alikan's two sons. The boy looked up. His eyes widened as he recognized Ragnar. "Daddy says you drove off a Demon." He said in Karsite.

Ragnar smiled. "I think Mikizi did it more than I did."

"Who is Mikizi?"

Ragnar gestured at Mikizi. "This is Mikizi. She is my Companion."

The boy looked fearfully at Mikizi. "Is she a Demon Horse?"

Ragnar laughed. "She is a _Spirit_ Horse."

 _::Companion.::_ Mikizi corrected. _::But well enough for now.::_

"She is beautiful. Can I pet her?"

"Of course." Ragnar lifted the boy so he could pet Mikizi's neck.

"I am Dietrich." The boy introduced himself as he stroked Mikizi.

"And I am Ragnar."

Khal Alikan appeared at Ragnar's side, eyes flickering between his son and Ragnar.

Ragnar looked at the captain. "May Vkandis protect you." He said.

Khal Alikan gave a small smile. "May Vkandis protect you and guide you."

"Dietrich, your father wants you to go with him." Ragnar handed the boy over.

"I want to stay with the Spirit Horse." Dietrich protested.

"Go with your father." Ragnar said firmly. "We will meet again another time."

Dietrich looked at Ragnar with wide eyes. "When?"

"I do not know. It will be years, I think, but we will meet again." Even as he spoke, Ragnar's Spirit Sense told him it was true.

The boy seemed to sense it as well. "We will meet again." He echoed. He looked back at Ragnar as his father carried him away.

###

At dinner that evening, the officers and Heralds presented Ragnar with three grey uniforms and grey boots, made by the post tailor and cobbler. "So you can arrive at the Collegium a proper Herald Trainee." Sergeant Kelding said.

At Lars and Amos' insistence, Ragnar changed into one of the uniforms. He returned to the dining hall to the cheers of the entire post.

The next morning everyone turned out before dawn to see Ragnar off. He mounted Mikizi and they disappeared into the morning mist.


	18. Chapter 18 - Books, Swords and Gifts

Chapter 18 – Books, Swords and Gifts

" _Your mind knows only some things. Your inner voice, your instinct, knows everything. If you listen to what you know instinctively, it will always lead you down the right path." - Henry Winkler_ _  
_

The chiming of a Companion's hoofbeats brought Shanis Rains out of the residence at Gillhold. Her jaw dropped as Ragnar and Mikizi trotted through the gate. "Welcome, boy! It is good to see you again." She hugged Ragnar after he dismounted. "This is a surprise, but a good one. Please introduce me to your Companion."

Ragnar grinned, hugging the former guard sergeant in return. "This is Mikizi." He glanced around. If any place in Valdemar felt like 'home', it was the waystation at Gillhold. He was glad to be back, if only for a single night.

Proudly, he walked through the door of Companions' Hall. He had done it a thousand times when he served as a helper at Gillhold, now he entered as one of the Chosen.

 _::And if you keep thinking that way, I am going to 'accidentally' step on your foot.::_

He laughed aloud. When Shanis asked him why, he told her what Mikizi said.

"You do know that guardsmen refer to Heralds as 'targets', don't you?" At his surprised look, she explained "What else would you call someone on a battlefield dressed in a pure _white_ uniform riding a pure _white_ Companion?" Mikizi whickered.

Ragnar and Mikizi settled in to one of the rooms. He deliberately avoided the ones Bredin and Kensie used nearly two years before. _::Chosen, Heralds don't stay around to haunt people after they die.::_

Ragnar tried to explain his mixed feelings of loss and hero-worship. There was also a feeling of a life-debt to Kensie.

Mikizi nuzzled his cheek. _::Pay it to the Heralds who come after you, Chosen. Every bed in this waystation, in any other waystation, or in the Collegium itself has rested a Herald who died soon after serving Valdemar and its people.::_ Mikizi mindvoice took on a mischievous tone. _::Sometimes the bed held two or more at once.::_

Ragnar laughed. He finished untacking Mikizi and putting his belongings away. After a quick shower, he joined Shanis Rains in the kitchen, helping prepare dinner. He noticed she was preparing more than needed for just two. "When Herald Sergei left this morning, he told me to expect three tonight." She grinned at Ragnar. "If I'd known you were one of them, I'd have done something special for my prodigal pirate."

The chiming of Companion hooves drew them out the yard. Two Heralds rode in. The older, thirtyish Herald introduced himself as Leo Sands. The other was his intern, Ansen Danner. They introduced their Companions as Jaracin and Kandrel. Ragnar was so used to the 'spirit visions' that he saw upon greeting Heralds and Companions for the first time that he did not blink at the human avatars accompanying the Companions or the 'horse' avatar in Leo's place. Ansen, however, surprised Ragnar: His 'spirit' avatar took the form of a huge cat.

Ragnar managed to school his expression to a polite greeting, though Mikizi and Kandrel both snorted and whickered.

By the time Leo and Ansen untacked their Companions and cleaned up, dinner was ready and the four sat down in Companions' Hall with the Companions lounging on the mattresses behind them. Shanis Rains wanted to know everything that Ragnar had done since he left the waystation. She grinned knowingly at his misadventures shuttling back and forth from Redruth to Warford and the misassignment to regular cavalry training instead of scout training.

She remembered Colonel Chase as the 'worst know-it-all-ensign' she ever met. "Took me a year to get her to talk sense." Shanis said. "But she knew her troopers and wouldn't accept less than their very best. You couldn't have been under a better commander. I'll give you odds it was she who told that lieutenant to give you extra training." Ragnar remembered odd questions Colonel Chase asked him – she must have known what Ritter was doing.

 _::Good commanders know what is going on. For good or ill.::_ Mikizi put in. _::And they don't let ability go to waste.::_

When Ragnar told of the deaths of Bredin and Kensie, Shanis talked about seeing them in Bransat before they were Chosen and how the two hated one another. Leo added his encounters with Bredin and Kensie before and after Lacaral and Losanir came. Ansen mentioned accidentally hitting Bredin in the head when his training sword came apart and how his parents knew both Lacaral and Losanir.

Ragnar looked at the other three curiously. "It's strange how the four of us, who knew them separately, all wind up in the same place at once."

Leo snorted. "Coincidences have a way of happening when Companions are around." He threw an accusatory look at Jaracin.

All three Companions struck 'innocent' poses. _::Who? Us?::_ Mikizi said.

###

Ragnar left with Leo and Ansen in the morning, riding beside them during the day and sharing the waystations at night. The weather remained warm and Ragnar slept on the ground outside the waystations – with his scout training, sleeping outdoors wasn't a hardship.

They arrived in Haven in the early afternoon of the third day. Ragnar still found the huge city daunting; he had been here three years before, but hardly set foot outside of the barracks and supply area of the palace. With the crowded streets, the three of them often had to go single file. Unlike the smaller towns and villages they passed on the way, the people of Haven mostly ignored them.

 _::Haven sees Heralds and Trainees all the time. Here, you are not a rarity.::_ Mikizi explained.

After what seemed an endless wind through crooked streets, they reached the palace, though at a different gate than the one Ragnar entered with Captain Clagett. "Heralds Leo and Ansen." The guard nodded to them and made marks on a sheet. He looked at Ragnar. "You must be the new one that Mikizi brought in. Leo and Ansen can show you the way." He waved them on.

This side of the palace astonished him. In the south, the few nobles' residences were mostly fortification. Ragnar had only seen the outside of those, never the tiny courtyards and gardens reserved for the families. Here, the gardens were larger than whole villages. He gaped at the courtiers' clothing and jewelry until Mikizi told him it was considered rude to stare.

 _::Why do they dress like that if they don't want to be looked at?::_ He asked.

 _::They do want to be looked at, but not by the likes of you. Also, there is a difference between a look and staring.::_ Sensing Ragnar's confusion, Mikizi added. _::You'll cover that in Courtly Graces.::_

 _::What are 'Courtly Graces?'::_ Ragnar asked.

 _::Mostly, 'Courtly Graces' are about making others comfortable. Among the highborn, that often means observing small niceties, though some get petty and nasty about it if you make a minor mistake. You can usually get by with a nod, a smile and saying nothing. In fact, 'don't open your mouth if you aren't sure what to say' is probably the most important rule of all.::_

Ragnar smiled. Half the fights he remembered in the Clan and in the barracks at Redruth happened because somebody said something the wrong way.

 _::More likely nine fights out of ten start that way.::_ Mikizi said. _::When in doubt, shut up.::_

A Herald waited for them at one of the doors. The man was very short with wispy grey hair. Leo and Ansen dismounted; Ragnar followed suit. Leo gestured at the man, "Ragnar, this is Dean Elcarth. He will get you settled in."

Guessing that 'Dean' was some kind of captain, Ragnar saluted Elcarth, drawing smiles from all three Heralds and snorts from the Companions.

"Welcome, young Ragnar, I believe it is?" Elcarth looked up at Ragnar, who was a head-and-a-half taller than the Dean. Ragnar nodded. "Please come in so I can get to know you and get you placed."

After Mikizi told him the others would help this time, Ragnar followed the Dean to his office. Elcarth questioned Ragnar for nearly two candlemarks. "I confess I did not expect you to have covered so much of the classwork we put our trainees through. I'm impressed. Adrian had his Kenning Gift, so it probably 'told' him you needed to learn some things. I'm guessing Lieutenant Ritter was trying to make a better spy out of you. There are some things you'll have to cover yet, like Judgment and Courtly Graces, and we'll want to polish up that Karsite and Hardornen, but you should be ready for your Whites in a year or two. We'll put that scouting knowledge to work: You'll probably be teaching Field Survival."

There was a knock on the door. At Elcarth's bidding a very thin trainee entered. Elcarth rose and Ragnar rose with him. Elcarth introduced the young man as Pike. He and Ragnar shook hands. "For now, let's get you settled into your room and Pike can show you around."

Elcarth led them to the third floor. After explaining how the boys' rooms were on one side of the common room and the girls' were on the other, Elcarth took Ragnar to the 'boys' side. Going to the third door on the right, he opened it and waved Ragnar inside. "This will be your room."

Ragnar looked around the room and smiled. "I like this room. Someone was very happy here. I can feel it."

Elcarth and Pike looked at him strangely. "Ylsa told me about that 'Spirit Sense' of yours. Are you sensing a ghost?" Elcarth asked.

Ragnar shook his head. "Not a ghost or spirit. It's just that whoever was here before me was very happy in this place."

Elcarth paused uncertainly. After a few moments, he spoke carefully. "The last occupant of this room was Kensie Poldara."

Ragnar blinked in surprise. "In that case, I will be very proud and happy to have this room."

Elcarth nodded. "Good. Also, about that Spirit Sense of yours, you will need to see Herald Kyril within the next few days. He's our expert on Gifts. Meanwhile, I'll leave you with Pike."

Pike took Ragnar on a tour of the Collegium, showing him the bathing room, the dining hall, the classrooms and introducing him to Gaytha. Along the way, the two shared stories of their lives before they became Herald Trainees. Pike's story shocked Ragnar, who had always thought of 'city folk' having easy lives. Hearing Pike speak of surviving on the streets of Haven, clad only in rags and with no shelter, Ragnar wondered if he could have survived himself.

 _::There are many kinds of strength and bravery.::_ Mikizi said. Ragnar nodded agreement as Pike told him how Coroc had saved Pike's life the night they were both Chosen.

With his scout training, Ragnar soon had a mental map of the Collegium, quarters and training areas. From the fact that Pike _did not_ show him the Palace and gardens, Ragnar deduced he was _not_ supposed to wander there.

 _::Not forbidden, but the Highborn would definitely let you know you were unwelcome.::_ Mikizi said. Ragnar remembered some of Lieutenant Ritter's offhand comments about his Corbie relatives and decided the Palace was not worth investigating. On the other hand, he remembered Captain Tewkes-Felthan and Ensign Halmar as friendly and approachable.

 _::Like any group of people, the Highborn have all types. Lords Urson and Austin think mostly of their duties. The ones that come to the Court are mostly interested in their rank and status.::_

The last stop on Pike's tour was the salle. Adrian Gill and Shanis Rains trained Ragnar at Gillhold, Lieutenant Yarr did so at Redruth, so Ragnar expected a much larger training area at the Palace. He was nervous, however, about the weaponsmaster. Lieutenant Yarr, Heralds Leo and Ansen, and even Pike had warned him about the formidable Herald Alberich; Ragnar was unsure what to expect.

Ragnar spotted Alberich immediately. The tall, heavily scarred man clad in dark leather was schooling a line of trainees a year or two younger than Ragnar as they worked through a drill, calling out a cadence that gradually increased. As the tempo built, some trainees began making mistakes: Alberich would call out a quick correction to the offender without missing a beat. The exercise built to a frenzied conclusion as the lines of trainees grew more ragged and the semblance of order vanished.

"Enough!" Alberich called and the trainees sagged in exhaustion. Alberich went down the lines, giving each trainee crisp reprimand for their mistakes. Ragnar wondered how the weaponsmaster had picked out every error among such a mob. Now they were standing still, Ragnar noticed there were red, green and blue uniforms among the grey. He asked Pike about them.

"The dull reds are bards, the light greens are healers, the blues are students not affiliated with the Collegia, mostly highborn." Pike said.

Before Pike could explain further, Alberich sent the students off on a run and turned towards Ragnar. Alberich's bearing was so obviously 'military' that Ragnar's year at Redruth made him come to attention and salute. "Herald Alberich. Trainee Ragnar Einarson reporting."

Alberich's lips twitched momentarily. "Expecting you I have. Lieutenant Yarr wrote to me." Ragnar felt a chill down his spine.

Two candlemarks later, Ragnar swayed on his feet before Alberich, dripping with sweat. "A solid foundation you have, but you must many things improve. Cool out and come back tomorrow."

Ragnar walked slowly around the salle, stopping every second round to stretch. Pike and Coroc joined him on either side. "You're really quite good." Coroc said. Ragnar wondered if he was mocking: Coroc had dissected Ragnar with long sword, short sword and sabre before absolutely destroying Ragnar with the quarterstaff. Only in hand-to-hand work had Ragnar held his own.

Coroc caught his look. "I mean it." He said. "Alberich would never say someone has a good foundation if it wasn't true. I've just had more years of training than you." Coroc snorted. "Of course, that just means he'll be harder on you than most. Just wait 'til he really starts pushing you." Ragnar's shoulders sagged.

The warning bell for dinner rang twice. "We've got a half-candlemark to shower before dinner." Coroc said "Let's go." Ragnar somehow summoned the energy to jog to the Collegium between Coroc and Pike.

Coroc and Pike guided him to a table with their yearmates. Before they could introduce him, Ragnar looked in the eyes of the young woman opposite him. Ragnar blushed scarlet.

"Hello, Ragnar. I remember you." Destria said. As Ragnar stumbled through a greeting, the others raised their eyebrows, but said nothing.

###

Ragnar's chore duties would not begin until tomorrow, giving him a free evening. After dinner, Ragnar went to Companions' stable to meet Mikizi. She offered to show him Companions' field, so he mounted her bareback and they set off at a walk, enjoying each other's company and the sunset.

The full moon rose while they wandered. Seeing it, Ragnar said "I'd like to cast the stones tonight."

 _::I know just the place for that.::_ Mikizi said.

"But there's a curfew tonight."

 _::'There is no One True Way', Chosen.::_ Mikizi quoted _. ::The Collegium makes allowances for religious practices.::_ She went 'absent' from Ragnar's mind for a moment. _::There. Done. I spoke to Garatun. Elcarth knows and has given permission for you to make your casting at midnight.::_

Ragnar had seen Companions 'consulting' one another when he was at Gillhold, so getting approval from Elcarth through the Companions did not surprise him. _::Pass my thanks to Elcarth and Garatun.::_

Sunset turned to twilight and twilight into night as they wandered through Companions' Field. There were other wanderers: The trainees became fewer and vanished altogether as the curfew approached. Companions wandered singly or in groups. There were a few small groups of people – from the cut of their clothes and their giggling chatter, Ragnar deduced they were highborn youths. Twice, Ragnar heard passionate sounds from rustling bushes – Mikizi noiselessly glided away from those while Ragnar bit his lip.

The evening wore on. Ragnar watched the palace light up, then slowly go dark as the inhabitants went to bed. Midnight neared and Mikizi brought Ragnar to a clearing with what appeared to be a ruined building; only a bell tower survived. The place pulsed with pure power, far greater power than the one Ragnar remembered at Watford.

There was also a Companion there, one whose coat gleamed in the moonlight and whose form radiated presence. To Ragnar's spirit sense, the new Companion showed not a human form but something of pure light.

 _::This is Rolan, Companion to the Queen's Own.::_ Mikizi introduced. _::He will help us. This place is The Grove, where Companions first appeared.::_ From Adrian's teachings, Ragnar knew stories of the Monarch's Own Companion and The Grove, but the reality of both was far more than he imagined. He slid down off Mikizi's back and bowed to Rolan.

Both Companions snorted. _::Don't be silly. We're Companions, not demigods.::_ Ragnar was not convinced.

Ayawin approached the zenith. Ragnar found the center of the power and used a stick to draw a circle. He sat on the south side, facing the Eye. Mikizi stood on the east and Rolan on the west. Ragnar closed his eyes and prayed. He felt the spirit manifest and opened his eyes. Blue eyes bored into his, but the form of the spirit was indeterminate: Great wings spread wide, but he could not tell if the apparition was the Eagle or the Windrider or both. A feeling of vast approval washed over him. He cast the stones and the spirit vanished.

Ragnar looked at the stones. He was where he ought to be. The winged stone and the other white stone were bound together. The two glittering stones were at peace just outside the edge, as though they would return someday. The black stone had moved to the east – there was more trouble, but not for a long while yet. Beyond that, he could see a path to the west; might he go that way?

Ragnar sighed and sat back, feeling at peace. He gathered the stones and returned them to the pouch. He nodded to the two Companions. "Thank you."

Rolan nodded.

 _::You are welcome.::_ Mikizi said. _::Do you think you can find your way back to the Collegium on your own?::_ Ragnar sensed mischief in her mindvoice.

Ragnar got to his feet. "I'm sure I can. Is there a reason?"

 _::Rolan and I would like to spend some time together.::_

Ragnar laughed and kissed her nose. "Of course, My Lady. See you in the morning."

The two whickered and leaped into a gallop, vanishing into the woods in an instant.

 _ **[Ansen Danner and Kandrel appear with the permission of Raelynn Daria Mayne.]**_


	19. Chapter 19 - Thud and Blunder

Chapter 19 – Thud and Blunder

" _The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing." -_ _John Powell_

Ragnar's arrow nicked the top of the target as Mikizi thundered along the track. Ragnar already had another arrow nocked and drawn as he turned to the target on the other side. He scored a hit on the second ring and nicked the bullseye on the next target on the same side. Four more arrows and they reached the end of the line. Mikizi's hind legs dug furrows in the dirt, sliding to a halt. Spinning on her haunches, she launched herself back down the line. Ragnar loosed his first arrow while she spun.

The other trainees cheered and applauded every shot on the way back. Mikizi slid to a stop beside a grinning Keren. "Fifteen hits, two grazes and three misses. Pretty solid archery, Trainee. I guess they taught you well at Warford."

Ragnar grinned back and grabbed another quiver. "Watch this." Mikizi tore off once more. Ragnar hung off her left side and loosed under her belly. He leaned forward to aim another arrow from under her neck before flipping over to the other side and shooting from a drag position while holding onto the crupper and pommel with his legs. Twisting, he loosed under her belly once more. Mikizi pivoted back towards Keren. Ragnar loosed five arrows on the return, the last hanging over Mikizi's croup and aiming upside down.

The trainees were cheering wildly. In the equitation ring, the first year trainees stopped their exercise and stood wide-eyed; Sherrill, who was teaching, joined her students. All around the stables and riding area stableboys, grooms and even highborn watched Ragnar's display with open mouths.

Keren's bit her lip, trying to maintain the pose of strict instructor. "Very fancy. Except you shot less than half as many arrows and hit only four of your nine targets." Keren knew very well less than one in ten arrows hit targets in actual combat, but she was determined not to allow Ragnar to get cocky. Coroc and Destria looked at each other and rolled their eyes: As with Alberich teaching weaponswork, _nothing_ was ever good enough for Keren when it came to riding.

Dantris cantered up, wearing his full tack. Keren swung up in his saddle. "Let's see those shots again." Keren said. Ragnar bit his lip, wondering what she had in mind.

Mikizi took off with Dantris right beside her. Ragnar hung off the saddle to take his first shot. Keren leaned over and flipped Ragnar's leg off the saddle, breaking his hold. Ragnar hit the dirt in a spectacular roll, finishing face down. Mikizi skidded to a halt and trotted back to nuzzle him anxiously. The watching trainees covered their horrified gasps.

Ragnar groaned and pushed up. He shook dirt from his face and hair, he spat more from his mouth. "What did you do that for?" He asked angrily.

"You gave up a perfectly good seat to shoot from a position that made it harder to aim." Keren said. "You made it easy to put you on the ground, where you would be more vulnerable."

"I can stay on Mikizi." Ragnar retorted. He got to his feet, brushing dirt off his greys.

"Oh? Where are you now?" Keren did not quite sneer. "Your position was unstable. A pikeman or an arrow or another rider could easily take you down." Ragnar glowered, but had to admit the truth of what she said.

Mikizi pinned her ears and stamped a hoof, shaking her head at Keren. _::I can protect my Chosen.::_

Keren and Dantris snorted in amusement. Keren didn't need to mindspeak Mikizi to guess what the mare thought. "Oh, really my dear? You are an even bigger target than he is." Mikizi lashed her tail, drawing an amused whicker from Dantris.

Point made, Keren looked back at Ragnar. "Anything broken?" Ragnar shook his head sullenly. "Good. Get back on and show me those trick shots again."

Unsure of Keren's purpose, Ragnar and Mikizi made another run. This time, Ragnar only managed to get off seven arrows, with a mere three hits. Mikizi pulled up beside Dantris. Keren nodded her head and Dantris pivoted towards the other trainees. "You are all going to practice those shots. They are rarely useful in a fight, but the exercise will help improve your seat, balance and coordination."

Dismounting, she turned back to Ragnar. "In the meantime, you can do the obstacle course. Bareback and no bridle. Dantris will pace you."

###

"If I were a real Hardornen Duke, I could haul you before the Court of Honor for what you just said." Herald Arend spoke in Hardornen, the only language he permitted in this class. He leaned heavily on his cane while Ragnar tried to figure out where he blundered.

The answer eluded Ragnar. From their looks, he could tell Destria and Pike both knew the answer. Giving up, he said "I apologise, Lord Arend, but error mine I know not." Ragnar had a solid Hardornen vocabulary, but still did not think in the language: He had to mentally translate everything, both speaking and listening.

"You just did it again." Arend said. "I am supposed to be a Duke, not a Landsritter." Ragnar looked blankly at the instructor, who finally relented. "Upper nobles, such as Dukes or Counts, are addressed as 'High-Lord', not simply 'Lord.' Remember, rank is very important in Hardorn and using the wrong form of address can put you in front of the Court of Honor."

Destria spoke up. "Senior, what is the 'Court of Honor?' I've seen it mentioned, but I don't understand it."

Arend gestured at Coroc. "You're highborn and have Hardornen relatives. You explain it."

The Lord Marshall's son stood and faced his fellow students. "It is a special Court which deals with offenses against rank. If someone insults a nobleman's rank or otherwise offends him, the nobleman can petition the court to order a 'Combat of Honor' or a penal combat.

"Combat of Honor is strictly between two noblemen. The court decrees the weapons and terms of the Combat of Honor and almost never allows mortal combat. If neither combatant gains a decisive win, the winner is determined by 'Third Blood' – the noble who first inflicts three wounds to draw blood.

"Penal combat happens when a commoner insults or offends a nobleman. The commoner has very little chance of surviving because can only use the weapons deemed appropriate for his rank. The nobleman can, and usually does, appear in full panoply, mounted on a warhorse.

"Penal combat can happen for any offense, but usually the court demands proof the offense has been persistent and the commoner has been warned to cease the offensive behavior.

"The Court of Honor is aimed at preventing duels and regulating those that do occur. It also is intended to preserve the Hardornen system of rank." Coroc sat down.

Arend nodded. "A good summary, Coroc." The Herald instructor ran his eye over the class. "Some of you may go on diplomatic missions to Hardorn, or you may just be on a circuit along the Hardorn border. It is important you not offend any Hardornens you meet so we may preserve the peace." He pointed his cane at Ragnar. "Tomorrow, you will present me with a complete list of the proper forms of address between all Hardornen ranks, both up and down."

Ragnar sighed inwardly. There went his game of saba tonight.

###

"I am not 'your woman.'" Destria spoke through gritted teeth. "I have the perfect right to choose my own bedmates and you have absolutely no say in the matter."

The other trainees in the common room exchanged glances and quietly decided they needed to be somewhere else.

"But I thought…." Ragnar began.

"No, you didn't think." Destria interrupted. "We had fun together at Gillhold and it was nice to share a bed with you since you arrived here, but that is not a lifebond or a handfasting. If I want to spend a night with Coroc or Pike or even Mercia, that's none of your business."

"I thought you liked me."

Destria rolled her eyes. "I do like you. I also like Coroc. Why shouldn't I spend time with him? Maybe you should…." She stopped in the middle of her sentence, her expression showing Sofi was mindspeaking her. Ragnar kept silent while Destria listened to her Companion.

Destria closed her eyes and sighed. Opening them, she smiled at Ragnar. "Sofi just told me to cool down. You are basically a nice person and I enjoy being with you." Ragnar looked hopeful for a moment; Destria crushed his hopes. "I am not going to spend another night with you until you understand I am my own person, not your 'woman'. You need to have a long talk with Mikizi. And maybe with Coroc, too." She kissed her hand and touched it to his cheek before she left.

Ragnar stared after her in bewilderment. Before coming to the Collegium, he'd never known women like his fellow trainees. Women in the clans were absolutely subservient. The female soldiers had been soldiers, he'd never thought of them any other way. Shanis Rains, Colonel Chase and the female Heralds he'd met were authority figures, a class unto themselves. At Gillhold, none of the Heralds or trainees passing through showed any interest in him. In Redruth, he'd twice visited the brothels in the town, but the purely physical release of the act left him unsatisfied. Now, at the Collegium, Destria proved to be the sort of bedmate he wanted: Witty, intelligent, imaginative and fun. However, Ragnar made a fundamental error: He mistook his passion for love and commitment. At least until Destria pushed back.

Alone in the common room, Ragnar sent a thought to Mikizi. _::Why did she tell me to talk to you?_

Mikizi gave a mental sigh. _::You are not from Valdemar and have only just arrived at the Collegium. Most trainees have never had sex before they get here. They see how the others interact and understand the rules before they get into bed with one another, especially the part about women being equal.::_

Mikizi hesitated. Ragnar sensed she was afraid of offending him. _::Go on.::_

 _::Chosen, your clansmen treat their women badly. Clan women are just one step above slaves. The clans give women no choice in their mates; they even trade women off if they feel like it. You still carry some of that attitude with you, despite what you have seen, despite knowing Shanis Rains, Colonel Chase, Destria and others. You don't fully accept women as equals.::_

 _::I get along with Destria, Mercia and Amber.::_ Ragnar protested.

 _::But you expect them to defer to you and your wishes. I feel your resentment every time one of them does something contrary to your opinion.::_ Mikizi said.

 _::But I'm right!::_

Mikizi's mental snort was so forceful, Kensie thought he could hear it with his ears physically as well as in his mind. _::Are you?::_ She sent images of times when the instructors agreed with Ragnar's yearmates instead of Ragnar.

Ragnar made a face. _::I'm right most of the time.::_

Mikizi snorted again. _::You're right about half the time. Except when you talk about what women_ **should** _do. Remember that time in Herald Joyeaus' class?::_

Ragnar blushed, though there was no one to see it. During the Lord Marshall's Herald's 'Advanced Strategy and Tactics' class, he ventured the opinion women did not belong on a battlefield. The subsequent lecture still burned in his mind. Joyeaus assigned him a review of seven battles where women played a pivotal role, due in two days.

Mikizi wasn't done. _::And, in case you think what you say and do to your female yearmates doesn't matter, remember how it felt at Redruth and Watford when everyone called you a pirate.::_

Ragnar flinched at the memory. He sighed. _::Ok. I'll try to do better. Will you help me?::_

 _::Of course, Chosen. That's what I'm here for.::_ Mikizi's mindvoice became tender.

Still uncomfortable, Ragnar tried to change the subject. _::What did she mean about talking to Coroc?::_

This time, Mikizi snickered. _::Coroc has a reputation of being very, very good in bed. I think she means you have to work on your technique.::_

Ragnar was still scarlet when Pike cautiously entered the room several sunwidths later.

###

"No!" Ragnar slapped the frying pan out of Mercia's hand, sending it clanging across the floor. The hot metal scorched the wooden floor, which began to smoke until Thor grabbed the handle and picked the pan up.

"What in the nine hells did you do that for?" Mercia snapped. The rest of their yearmates frowned at Ragnar.

"Those were poisonous. If you'd eaten them, you would have died." Ragnar shouted back.

"You could have just told her." Amber said dryly.

"Much better just to send it all over the floor and burn the place down around us." Thor's voice dripped with sarcasm. He and Destria began cleaning the floor, carefully not touching the spilled mushrooms directly.

Ragnar and his yearmates were in the field hut for a Sovran celebration, spending the day relaxing before an evening 'feast' prepared with foods they brought. Ragnar hooked a fish in the morning, which was now baking in coals on one side of the hearth and others contributed their own specialties. Mercia searched the forest for mushrooms; city-bred, she did not know which were unsafe to eat. Ragnar, with years of field experience, recognized the danger immediately.

Ragnar stood still for a moment, staring back at his yearmates. Didn't they understand the danger?

 _::They can understand perfectly well without you almost pushing Mercia into the fire.::_ Mikizi said.

Ragnar flushed and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Mercia. I panicked when I saw those mushrooms." The others gave him skeptical looks until Ragnar told how Koban, a childhood friend, died from eating them. He did not tell his yearmates how Koban took five days to die in agony.

The trainees looked at one another soberly. "We see." Mercia said quietly. "That must be a very bad memory." It took a full candlemark for the conversation to recover.

After dinner and clean-up, they made a bonfire outside, dancing and telling stories. Ragnar danced the Eagle dance, ending with a leap over the fire. Coroc, Destria and Pike jumped the fire as well. Thor smiled and shook his head.

Ragnar looked up at the Eye of the Eagle and at Ayawin. He had no need to cast the stones tonight. Everything felt right. By midnight, they all were in their bedrolls. Ragnar slept alone, though he could hear the others sharing their blankets.

###

The driving rainstorm rattled the shutters of Ragnar's room. He folded his uniform, placing it on the shelf. As he reached for his singlet, there was a soft tap on the door.

"Who is it?" He asked.

"Mercia. Would you like some company tonight?" She whispered.

Ragnar grinned and opened the door enough for Mercia to slip into the room. She eyed his body appreciatively and ran her finger from his breastbone to his navel. "Looks delicious." She said. She unbuttoned her shirt. After nearly a moon of celibacy and suggestions from both Coroc and Teren, Ragnar was willing to join the game. Cautiously, he let Mercia lead, starting with her on top.

Their lovemaking built slowly, both of them seeking to pleasure the other until it reached a glorious climax. Done, the two lay contented in each other's arms.

"You're better than Destria said." Mercia said, then instantly regretted it. "Ooh! I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

Ragnar laughed. "I've been getting some instruction. I hope I'm performing better than 'a bull with only one thing on his mind.'" He quoted Destria's angry phrase.

Mercia touched her finger to his lips. "You did quite nicely. It's too bad it's so rainy. Then we could get the Companions in on it. The sensation is even better when they are playing at the same time." She paused, mindspeaking her Companion. "Garrad says he'd like to spend some time with Mikizi."

Ragnar shrugged. "Mikizi seems to spend most of her nights with Rolan."

"Rolan?" Mercia looked at him curiously. "Have you gotten to know Talia?"

"Who's Talia?"

Mercia looked at him in disbelief. "You don't know who Talia is?" At Ragnar's bewildered look, Mercia went on. "She's the new Queen's Own. Rolan Chose her about a moon before Mikizi Chose you."

Ragnar shook his head. "I knew the Queen's Own was new, but nobody ever told me her name. I've never seen her. I only see Rolan when he's heading for Companion's field beside Mikizi."

Mercia smiled. "Everybody just assumes everybody we'd all know. You would have been her yearmate if you hadn't so much schooling from Adrian and that spymaster, in addition to being older. And it's not surprising you haven't seen her. She is so shy that almost nobody knows anything about her, other than she's Holderkin."

Ragnar grimaced. "I had my fill of Holderkin. Some of them helped kill Heralds Kensie and Bredin. I owed Kensie a life-debt."

"Don't take it out on her. She had nothing to do with it." Mercia said.

Ragnar sighed. "You're right. Besides, I saw how they treated their women. It was worse than the Clans in some ways. I don't think a Companion could ever Choose one of their menfolk, though."

 _::There are exceptions. Not all Holderfolk men are that way.::_ Mikizi put in.

Ragnar smiled. "Mikizi just reminded me not to brand them all with the same iron."

Mercia hugged him. "Good for you. Though you might be a little concerned about Mikizi playing with Rolan all the time."

"Why?"

Mercia looked at him oddly. "Haven't you heard of the extraordinary fertility of the Monarch's Own Companion?" At Ragnar's cautious headshake, she told him.

Alarmed, Ragnar sent a question to Mikizi.

 _::We'll talk about it in the morning. Meanwhile, you've got a very attractive young woman in your bed.::_

Ragnar smiled at Mercia. "Companions and cats will do as they please, so trainees and dogs should just relax." He stroked Mercia's arm.

 _::You will pay for that.::_

Mercia smiled back at Ragnar. She slapped his thigh then slid her hand upwards. "I think you're ready for more."

"I am. I don't think we need the lantern anymore." Ragnar reached over and turned down the wick.

It was a good thing tomorrow was a rest day. Neither of them got to sleep for a long time.

###

"You're _what_?" Ragnar followed up on his conversation with Mercia the night before. Due to the pouring rain outside, they stood in the aisle of Companions' stable. The Heralds and trainees in the stable looked around at him curiously. The Companions whickered their amusement.

 _::I'm pregnant.::_ Mikizi seemed unperturbed.

Ragnar felt a surge of jealousy. "Who is the sire?" He demanded. The Companions whickered again and the humans now giggled.

 _::Who do you think?::_ Mikizi said. _::And there is no need to sound like an outraged father.::_

Ragnar paused, realizing he was being ridiculous. He put his hands on Mikizi's cheek and kissed her nose. _::Sorry, love. I was being silly. How long have you known?::_

 _::We always know right away. But I waited a few sennights to let you settle in.::_

Ragnar put his forehead against hers. _::I suppose you know best.::_

 _::We do.::_

He chuckled. _::Is it a boy or a girl? Or should I say 'a colt or a filly.'::_ He was certain she knew.

 _::I do. But you are going to have to wait until next summer.::_ Her mindvoice was slightly mocking.

 _::I can't wait, but I'll have to be content. In the meantime, I'll see you get the best of care. You won't have to haul me around and I'll wait on you hand and hoof.::_ Ragnar promised.

 _::Oh, there's no rush. I can carry you through midwinter and a moon beyond. After that, I've arranged for another Companion to fill in.::_ Mikizi's mindvoice hinted Ragnar should look around. Ragnar turned to see a Companion stallion nearby. _::This is Lancri. He's one of my foals.::_

Ragnar nodded at the young stallion. "Hello, Lancri. Thank you for your help." There was something familiar about Lancri….

 _::You've met his brothers. Like Lacaral and Losanir, Lancri is a son of Lorenil, conceived the night before Lorenil died.::_ Mikizi said. _::He thanks you for what you did for his brothers and their Chosen.::_

"But I failed…." Ragnar began.

 _::You brought them home.::_ Mikizi said. _::That means a lot.::_

Ragnar walked over to Lancri and hugged his neck.

###

Ragnar eyed his opponent, wondering what Alberich had in mind. Skif was barely up to Ragnar's chest and less than half his weight. During his scout training, Ragnar learned hand-to-hand combat. The match-up seemed absurd. Ragnar reminded himself not to be overconfident.

The two circled for a moment. Ragnar crept closer to Skif, knowing he had a longer reach than the smaller trainee. If he could grab Skif's arm…. Ragnar lunged and his hand closed on empty air; Skif circled behind Ragnar, who twisted wildly to avoid the smaller trainee's practice blade. Did he feel a touch?

They circled again. Ragnar bit his lip. Of course the smaller man should be nimbler; be wary. Skif feinted and ducked, Ragnar avoided the slash at his lower body. His counter sliced through thin air as Skif slipped away to his right. Ragnar spun so Skif could not get behind him.

More feints and dodges. Ragnar managed to avoid Skif's deceptive moves, but could not score any hits himself. Ragnar grinned. The match was not as uneven as he thought: Skif was a skilled opponent.

Skif smiled back, then feinted left and right. Ragnar expected the double-feint and closed with Skif on his attack. Instead of moving away, Skif came inside, slashing at Ragnar's belly. Ragnar jumped back, avoiding the blade. Ragnar thought he felt another touch.

This time, Skif finished with his back to Ragnar, who seized the moment and charged the smaller trainee. Skif grabbed Ragnar's arm and pulled him forward. Ragnar tumbled over Skif and crashed onto the mat, flat on his back. Skif touched his blade to Ragnar's throat.

"Kill." Alberich said.

Still on his back, Ragnar roared with laughter. Skif offered his hand. Ragnar took it and got to his feet. Laying his practice blade flat on his palms, he knelt to Skif and offered his 'submission.'

Around the practice floor, their fellow trainees applauded and cheered.

Ragnar stood again and shook Skif's hand. Skif turned Ragnar's palm up and put Ragnar's money pouch, gloves and Vkandis medal in his hand. Ragnar shook his head ruefully.

###

Ragnar spent Midwinter with Pike. Neither had any family to share the holiday and Pike's usual chum Coroc attended his father the Lord Marshall's celebrations. Instead of keeping vigil, the two played Hare and Hounds until midnight. They saddled Mikizi and Chanur to wander the quiet streets of Haven on Midwinter Day then enjoyed a quiet feast with the few other Heralds and Trainees remaining in Haven. They agreed to go for an early ride through Companions' Field the next day.

It had not been a good Midwinter for Selenay. The final Council Meeting before the Midwinter celebration started with the nobles sneering and ended with them screaming insults at one another across the council table.

Elspeth demanded to join the Midwinter vigil. Selenay acceded to her daughter's request only to have Elspeth disrupt the ceremony and prayers with unceasing complaints about how cold the chapel was. When Selenay finally insisted Elspeth go to bed, the Heir threw a monumental temper tantrum with screams which could be heard as far away as the Lesser Hall.

On Midwinter Day, Elspeth's ill-temper continued as she decided her presents were unsatisfactory and a final temper tantrum in the middle of the High Feast.

Selenay sought relief with Caryo, arriving the next morning at the stable before any of the courtiers rose for a ride on her beloved Companion.

There were half a dozen Heralds and Trainees in Companions' stable when Ragnar arrived. He knew most of them, but had never seen the golden-haired female Herald who was tightening her Companions' girth. The young woman appeared to be about thirty and very fit. From Lieutenant Ritter's training, Ragnar could tell the woman's Heraldic uniform was made of expensive fabric. She smiled at Ragnar and he smiled back.

From behind him, Pike said "Ragnar, this is Selenay. Selenay, this is Ragnar Einarson."

It took a moment for Ragnar to connect the name. This was the Queen! Ragnar started to bow and stammer honorifics until Selenay stopped him, explaining she did not want any formality here, among the Companions and her fellow Heralds. She was here to relax, not to make an appearance.

To put Ragnar at ease, she asked him about his time at Gillhold and Redruth – Ragnar had no idea how she knew about his background, but he told how he treasured his time with Adrian. Ragnar racked his brain for something to respond. At last, he remembered what old Angsar told him about the Queen of Valdemar the night Ragnar became a Clan Warrior.

"Did you really kill your husband with your own sword?" He asked.

 _::CHOSEN!::_ Mikizi exclaimed in his mind. Selenay's face froze. The Companions blew loud snorts and the Heralds and Trainees present covered their mouths to stifle gasps or laughter.

Selenay recovered first. Stiffly, she said "I'd rather not discuss it." She swung up on Caryo's back and rode out into the field.

Ragnar could tell he'd said something very wrong. He looked around. Keren stared at him, her eyebrows raised. "I told Elcarth you should start Courtly Graces immediately."


	20. Chapter 20 - That Which Binds

Chapter 20 – That Which Binds

 _"No man is an island entire of itself." – John Donne_

A sennight after Midwinter, Ragnar looked through the thick bullseye glass of his window. Few ventured on the pathways of the Palace grounds in this cold; a dull overcast sky promised more snow later. With the Midwinter Fair over and the parties done, the streets of Haven were quiet. Ragnar's yearmates would begin returning tomorrow, but for now, the Collegium was almost empty. Even Mercia, the daughter of a fishmonger in Haven, was spending her last free days with her family. That morning, he and Mikizi went on a gentle ride through Companions' Field, taking care not to work Mikizi too hard. He wondered if he should ask Pike to show him more of Haven or go to the library.

There was a soft tap on the door. Ragnar opened it, revealing a thin young man, twenty or so, in a servant's livery. The livery was red and silver with a leaping red hart surrounded by a green wreath on the tabard. "How may I help you, sir?" Ragnar asked.

"I am Spod, manservant to Count Wyeth Poldara." The young man said. The name of Count Poldara sent a shiver down Ragnar's spine. "Are you Herald Trainee Ragnar Einarson?"

"I am." Ragnar said. "How may I help you?"

Spod touched his forelock. "Count Wyeth asked me to give you this." He handed Ragnar a note. Ragnar opened it. The letter was written in green ink.

 _Dear Herald Trainee Ragnar Einarson_

 _I am the father of the late Herald Kensie Poldara, whom you knew. I would like to talk to you and request the honor of your company at my residence in Haven. I am informed that the classes in the Collegium will not resume for a few more days and ask if you would be free at this time._

 _If you are willing to come, please allow my manservant to escort you. If another time would be better, please let him know when you are able to come. Spod may be trusted with any information._

 _I look forward to your visit._

 _Wyeth Poldara, Count of Poldara_

Ragnar took a deep breath, trying to still his racing heartbeat. This was the father of the man he had failed; how could he face him? He closed his eyes and prayed to the Eagle. How could he go? How could he not go?

 _::Actually, if you read closely, Count Wyeth_ _ **expects**_ _you to come. Typical highborn. He thinks the world should defer to his wishes.::_ Mikizi snorted her annoyance.

Ragnar opened his eyes and looked at Spod, who looked back at him curiously. "If it will please the Count, I will come with you now. Is it far?"

Spod touched his forelock once more. "Thank you, sir. It is not far. Poldara House is on High Street, a little way from the Great Square."

"One moment." Ragnar stepped to his closet to grab his cloak. Throwing it over his shoulders, he closed the door and locked it, something that still felt strange to Ragnar. Before coming here, he never locked a door in his life; it took a direct order from Elcarth to get him to do so. "Lead on." He said.

"I can wait while you saddle your Companion." Spod said. Ragnar glanced quickly at Spod's shoes, which were mildly water-stained. Spod had walked here and would walk back, whether Ragnar rode or walked. Ragnar would walk.

"My Companion can rest here. There is no need to inconvenience her."

Spod smiled slightly. "Lord Kensie did the same."

"You knew him?" Ragnar asked.

"He saved my life."

"Mine, too." Ragnar said.

The two walked side by side, each sharing their stories of how they had come to know Kensie Poldara. Ragnar's dread of meeting Kensie's father increased with every step towards Poldara House. Even Mikizi's reassurances did nothing to calm his apprehension. When they reached Poldara House, Spod held the door for Ragnar; the manservant's deference only increased Ragnar's unease, as did the hall boy bending to wipe his boots with a cloth and the doorman taking his cloak.

Leaving the entryway, Ragnar entered the reception hall and stopped in amazement. In the Palace complex, he had only seen the Collegium, stables and the salle, never the part inhabited by the highborn. The opulence astounded him: He looked around, gaping at the huge room – at least three stories tall – decorated with paintings, tapestries and sculpture and festooned with mirrors, polished wood and gilt fixtures. Three chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and lanterns in gilded sconces along the sides illuminated the hall. Two rows of balconies looked down from each side and a vast staircase filled the far wall.

A man and woman emerged at the top of staircase on the left side. Both were dressed in costly fabrics with elaborate embroidery. They wore no jewelry and, compared with the other highborn Ragnar had seen in the palace, they were dressed conservatively. One look at the man's solemn face was enough to tell Ragnar this was Kensie's father.

As the couple descended, Ragnar walked towards the foot of the staircase. Reaching it, he went to his knees and hung his head. "My Lord, My Lady, I failed your son. I am sorry."

Eyes down, Ragnar did not see the astonished looks Count Wyeth and Lady Lora exchanged. They reached the bottom step and bent to raise him up. Ragnar flinched as he felt them take his arms. "Please, young man, stand." Lady Lora said. Hesitantly, Ragnar got to his feet. "We wish to thank you. Why do you think we should be angry with you?"

Ragnar began stammering out an explanation, but Count Wyeth interrupted. "Let us find a place where we can sit and talk comfortably." They led Ragnar to the reception room on one side of the hall.

At Lady Lora's urging, Ragnar cautiously took a seat on one of the elegantly crafted chairs. Spod stood behind Count Wyeth and a butler appeared with a silver tray bearing glasses, a carafe of wine and some small cakes. Ragnar eyed the tray nervously; after the incident with Selenay, Elcarth sent him to Gaytha for several candlemarks of intense lectures on Courtly Graces. Ragnar did not want to blunder again.

Both unfortunately and fortunately for Ragnar, the story of his encounter with the Queen had spread throughout the Palace. Insulated in the Collegium, he did not know he was the butt of jokes from the servants' quarters to the Great Hall. Fortunately, Count Wyeth had served in the guard and was wise enough to recognize inexperience. With tactful direction, the Count and Countess set the example for their guest. Ragnar, mindful of Gaytha's instruction to 'do as others do', followed their lead. Wyeth noted how quickly Ragnar picked up their cues: He could see the young man was no fool, merely unfamiliar with the niceties of the court. Wyeth resolved to speak up for Ragnar in the Court.

"My son wrote how he first met you in battle." Wyeth began. "He said you were brave and loyal to your people. He told me how you wished to avenge your father. What happens in war is best forgotten, please do not think we hold anything against you."

Hesitantly, Ragnar tried to explain his life-debt to Kensie, beginning with Kensie's speaking for him at the trial. With discreet questions, Count Wyeth and Lady Lora drew him out, learning what Ragnar had done since. At the end, Ragnar hung his head once more, unable to face Kensie's parents as he spoke of not warning Bredin and Kensie about the invaders from Karse.

"Weren't you attached to the Redruth Guard Post?" Wyeth asked softly.

"Yes, but…." Ragnar began.

Wyeth raised a hand to stop Ragnar's explanation. "Did you know the invaders were laying a trap for my son and Herald Bredin?"

"No, but…"

Wyeth stopped him again. "Did you even know where they were?"

"No, but…."

"But nothing." Wyeth interrupted a third time. "Your orders were to report to the Commander of the Post." Ragnar looked up in surprise. Wyeth continued. "You had your duty. You did what duty demanded. Even had you known where Kensie and Bredin were and the invaders' intentions, soldiers cannot make their own rules. Obey your orders, whatever the cost, personal or otherwise." Count Wyeth's tone was iron.

Ragnar flushed. Before he could say anything, Lady Lora spoke up. "Besides, you brought them home. That means much. For that, my husband and I wished to thank you." She dabbed a tear from her eye.

"Yes." Wyeth said. "I am curious about how you did that. It was a brave and honorable thing. We are greatly in your debt. Please tell us what you did."

Ragnar gave Count Wyeth and Lady Lora the 'edited' version Elcarth and Kyril agreed upon for Ragnar to tell others. Kyril, frustrated in understanding Ragnar's mysterious Gift, told Ragnar to speak of it in only the vaguest terms; since Ragnar had no idea what the Gift was, Kyril's instruction suited him perfectly.

Fortunately, the Count and Lady did not care how Ragnar thwarted the Sunpriest, only that he had. They thanked him effusively at the end of his story.

"And now you have been Chosen by a Companion yourself." Count Wyeth said. "Kensie would have been very proud of that."

"I hope I live up to him." Ragnar said.

Count Wyeth laughed. "With a Companion, you haven't any choice. Kensie taught us that. However, my youngest will be disappointed you walked here. Martin and his friend are obsessed with Companions."

"I am sorry, My Lord." Ragnar said. "Maybe they can visit Mikizi at the stable tomorrow?"

The Count laughed again. "Martin will be delighted. Leif, however, is spending Midwinter with his family in Bransat." They made arrangements for the Count to bring his youngest son to Companions' stable after luncheon the next day.

The Count and the Lady rose and Ragnar rose with them. They escorted Ragnar to the door. As Ragnar put on his cloak, Count Wyeth said. "One more thing: What do you think of Khal Alikan, the former Karsite Captain?"

Ragnar blinked and frowned. He'd not thought of the Karsite since he left Redruth. Cautiously, he said "I hated him, My Lord, for his part in the deaths of Kensie, Herald Bredin and their Companions. But I heard his story and saw his family. In his own way, I think he is an honorable man."

 _::And so is my Chosen.::_ Mikizi put in.

Count Wyeth looked thoughtful. "I see. Thank you for telling me this."

With final thanks and goodbyes, Ragnar headed back to the Collegium.

###

Fat flakes of snow were falling gently when Count Wyeth brought Martin to Companions' stable the next day. Between those off with their Heralds or Trainee on circuit or visiting families, few Companions were in residence at the Palace, but those that were around preferred the warmth of the stable to the wintery spaces of Companions' field. Of the Companions present, about half were in their stalls; the others gathered in small groups in the aisle 'chatting' with one another.

Ragnar caught a bemused look on Count Wyeth's face as they made their way past one group of Companions. The Count smiled back at Ragnar. "Kensie and Lacaral made me understand that Companions are intelligent and go where they please, but my memories and training still say 'loose horse' when I see them standing on their own in the aisle." A Companion winked at Ragnar over the Count's shoulder.

Between Count Wyeth and Ragnar, Martin's wide eyes darted from side to side. Only his father's hand on his shoulder stopped the boy from running up to every Companion he saw. Several of the Companions gave Martin curious looks including, Ragnar noted, Rolan. When they reached Mikizi's stall, Ragnar barely had time to introduce her before Martin hugged himself to her chest.

Ragnar answered Martin's questions while the boy continued to pet Mikizi. When Count Wyeth noted Mikizi's pregnancy, Martin blurted out "Maybe he'll be my Companion." Mikizi and several nearby Companions whickered their amusement.

Ragnar did not want to discourage Martin, so he said simply "It's the Companions who decide, Lord Martin. Only they know who they will Choose." Out of the corner of his eye, Ragnar saw Count Wyeth stiffen. Ragnar realized that the loss of his eldest son might make the count apprehensive over the thought of another son being Chosen. Trying to change the subject, he said "Do you like horses? I bet you are a good rider." Ragnar was certain that, a young highborn like Martin was already learning to ride.

"I'm the best rider in Poldara!" Martin boasted. "I can even ride Triumph." The boy added a sheepish grin. "Sir Chase doesn't like that, though."

Count Poldara rolled his eyes. "I should say so. You aren't old enough for a war stallion yet."

"I can ride any horse." Martin said defiantly. "I know what they're thinking and can get them to do anything I want."

"Martin! No boasting!" Count Wyeth reprimanded his son.

Ragnar barely noticed. _Was the boy saying he could mindspeak horses? Wasn't that his brother's gift?_ He cast a suspicious glance at Mikizi.

 _::Are my eyes blue?::_ She said.

After a few more sunwidths, Count Wyeth thanked Ragnar and told Martin it was time to leave. Martin began to protest, but Mikizi decisively shoved him towards the door with her head.

Tears welled up in Martin's eyes. "Can I see her again?"

Before Ragnar could answer, Count Wyeth said "Actually, I was going to invite you to Bransat Manor over the summer."

Martin's expression brightened, then darkened again when Ragnar said "Unfortunately, Mikizi will be nursing a foal by then and won't be able to travel."

 _::By the end of the summer break, we should be able to make the trip, if we go in easy stages. We can probably manage a sennight.::_ Mikizi said.

Ragnar stared at her for a moment, then told Count Wyeth. They quickly agreed that, provided Mikizi's foal was able to go, Ragnar would visit Bransat Manor just before classes resumed.

Martin grinned. "Leif is going to be really happy to see her."

###

It was Ragnar's first session with Lancri. Under the watchful eyes of Sherrill and Mikizi, Ragnar went through basic exercises with the unpartnered stallion. He wasn't bothered by Lancri not wearing a bridle – as a scout, Ragnar learned to ride with only his seat and legs – but Lancri's refusal to mindspeak him was an irritation. At least Lancri would answer Ragnar's questions with nods and shakes of his head.

Sherrill rode Silkswift at Lancri's side, offering a few minor corrections. "You're doing fine. I think you and Lancri will get along…."

 _::CHOSEN! There's trouble!::_ Mikizi's mindvoice was a scream. Before Ragnar could react, Sherrill and Silkswift spun, disappearing in the direction of the river.

In a series of quick images, Mikizi showed Ragnar the new Queen's Own in the freezing water, clinging desperately to Rolan as the current dragged her under the ice. Lancri spun and followed Silkswift.

"Go by the stable! We need ropes!" Ragnar shouted to the young Companion, who altered his course to pass by the stable. Lancri shot through the stable, galloping from one end to the other. Ragnar bent down, scooping up ropes as they passed through. By the time they reached the far end, Ragnar was firmly in the seat once more. Ragnar could see other Heralds and Trainees riding in the same direction, their Companions in full gallop.

Lancri topped a rise just in time for Ragnar to see Keren disappear under the ice, a lead rope trailing behind her. Sherrill jumped from Silkswift's back and sprawled onto the ice to grab the end of Keren's rope, spreading her weight to avoid breaking through. As Lancri slid to a stop at the edge of the ice, Ragnar spilled off his back. Dropping one end on the bank, he wrapped a coil of rope around his waist and threw himself on his belly, following Sherrill. The ice cracked around them, water seeping up and soaking them both.

He reached Sherrill and wound the other end of his rope around her. "Got her!" He shouted to the others behind him. At that moment, Keren resurfaced, both she and the Queen's Own spluttering for air as Sherrill pulled them towards herself. Ragnar felt the others pulling on the rope, dragging him and the others back to shore. As they reached the shallows, the ice broke beneath them. With Sherrill on one side and Ragnar on the other, they helped Keren carry Talia up onto the bank and throw her up on Felara's back in front of Ylsa, who set off for the Collegium at a gallop. Keren and Sherrill followed on their own Companions a moment later.

Hearing ice cracking and breaking behind him, Ragnar turned back to see Rolan thrashing his way to the shore. Taking the rope once more, Ragnar jumped into the shallows. He waded through the broken ice to the Companion. Others joined him. Soon they had ropes secured around Rolan and, with the help of the other Companions, hauled Rolan up onto the bank.

Ragnar scrambled up himself. Someone threw a blanket around his shoulders and around the shoulders of others who had gone into the water. Ragnar saw Alberich pull a blanket tight around himself. The weaponsmaster looked murderous. Alberich spotted him. "Back to the Collegium. Warm up you must."

Ragnar looked around to see Lancri bending down in front of him. Gratefully, he pulled himself onto the young Companion's back. As he mounted, he saw Kantor kneeling so Alberich could mount bareback.

With Mikizi cantering alongside, Lancri carried him to the Collegium door, where others bundled him up the stairs and into a tub.

###

Healer Cydris checked Ragnar as he rested in the common room, still wrapped in a thick blanket. "You appear to be fine," she said "take it easy for a couple of days and, if you get so much as a sniffle, come to Healers' immediately." She turned to Pike, who had also entered the water to help Rolan.

"Drink this." Coroc handed Ragnar a mug of hot broth. Cydris nodded as Ragnar gratefully accepted it.

Ragnar looked around the room, which was filled with his fellow trainees. They were mostly silent, their faces showing anger. Talia was safe, though seriously ill, and securely protected by armed Heralds. Nobody who wasn't in Whites or Greens was allowed near her. Several of the female trainees were cossetting Sherrill, who was somewhat the worse for her efforts and showing signs of a cold.

Watching his fellows, Ragnar could see they were thinking of something. He couldn't tell what they had in mind, but deduced it had something to do with the highborn Blues. That puzzled him a bit: Teren came by a candlemark before to tell them the highborn who attacked Talia had been captured when they returned to the palace.

 _::They were just the hands, not the whole.::_ Mikizi's mindvoice was bitter. She would not explain further.

After dinner, Teren pointedly suggested the trainees should get out their books and study. Ragnar and the others complied; somehow, nothing on the pages meant anything.

That night, Mercia came to Ragnar's room. Neither of them was really in the mood. They rested quietly in each other's arms until they both fell asleep.

###

The next day was a rest day. Instead of the usual games and trips into Haven, the trainees hung around the Collegium, hardly speaking to each other. Ragnar noticed that Thor in particular seemed distracted; Coroc, Pike and several others stayed close to Thor, watching him closely. Thor's gift was farsight. Ragnar wondered what Thor was 'watching.'

After lunch, Ragnar went to Companions' stable, where he groomed Mikizi and Lancri. Just as he was about to put the brushes away, the other trainees swarmed into the stable. "Saddle up." Coroc said peremptorily. Ragnar put Lancri's saddle on as the rest tacked up their own Companions.

In a quarter-candlemark, every trainee except those keeping Sherrill company was in the saddle and following Coroc and Thor out into Companions' field. They moved silently, the only sound was the creaking of the saddle leather and the crunch of the snow under the Companions' hooves.

Reaching the woods, the trainees spread out in a line that curved forward on either side of Coroc; Ragnar was about four places to the left of Coroc as the group moved through the trees. In a few sunwidths, Ragnar could hear shouting and laughter ahead of them. Just before the trainees reached the spot Ragnar could hear a female voice saying "Whee! Splash!" and other voices laughing in response.

The trainees emerged into a clearing, completely encircling a score of highborn of both sexes, some mounted, others on foot.

The startled highborn looked around fearfully at the circle of trainees. One boy, mounted on a bay horse, looked angrily at the grey-clad troop. Ragnar noted the boy resembled Alex Ritter. "What do you want, _peasants_?" The boy spat out.

"A word with you, Quaid Corbie." Coroc said.

"Out of my way, _peasants._ " He spurred his horse towards Pike and Skif. Cymry and Chanur pinned their ears and lunged at Quaid's horse, which spun back towards his friends.

"My birth rank is higher than yours, Quaid." Coroc growled. "You and your friends will hear me out."

Quaid Corbie glared back at Coroc. Around him, the other highborn looked worried and frightened. "Spit it out." Quaid said belligerently.

"Yesterday's little escapade will _never_ be repeated." Coroc's voice was harsh. "We will be watching you. If you or any other highborn bothers or harms the Queen's Own, you will answer to us."

"I am so afraid." Quaid said sarcastically. "Why should you care about a smelly low-born brat?"

Coroc gritted his teeth. "Because she is one of us. Touch her, and we will cut your arms off. If you or any of your useless friends gives her a dirty look, we will wipe it off your face."

"You and your goody-goody grey friends don't frighten me." Quaid said. Even as he spoke, he licked his lips.

"Don't push it." Coroc said. Around the grey circle, Ragnar and the others nodded agreement.

"What will you do? Report us to the Provost?" Quaid sneered. Behind him, the other highborn tittered nervously.

Without a word, the entire circle of trainees charged forward, plunging to a halt half a horse-length from the highborn, who screamed in terror. Quaid's horse reared and the young lord fell onto the snow. Ragnar grabbed the horse's reins and held it as it tried to escape past Lancri.

Coroc stared down at Quaid, who was still flat on his back. "You have been warned. Make sure all the others know. If you or anyone else does anything to the Queen's Own, all that will be left of you will be a bloody smear on the ground. Do I make myself clear?"

Shaking, Quaid nodded.

As one, the trainees turned and headed back to the stable. Ragnar handed the reins of Quaid's horse to one of the other young highborn before following his friends.

 _::Elcarth and Kyril are not going to be happy about this.::_ Mikizi commented.

Ragnar held his head high. _::I stand with the Heralds.::_


	21. Chapter 21 - Renewal

Chapter 21 – Renewal

" _Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending." -_ _Carl Bard_

Ragnar listened closely as Herald Joyeuse told the class about the relations between Valdemar and Menmellith. "After the affair with the self-appointed 'General' Thallan, King Kiril…."

 _::Chosen! It's starting!::_ Mikizi's mindvoice broke Ragnar's concentration.

Having spent the last five nights on foal watch, Ragnar knew exactly what 'it' was. He leaped from his desk. As he ran out the door, he shouted "Get Healer Kyminn!" to the startled Lord Marshal's Herald and his yearmates.

Ragnar sprinted down the hall and stairs, narrowly avoiding people along the way. Once out of the Collegium, he headed straight for Companions' stable, ignoring the angry shouts of those who jumped out of the path of his headlong run.

Mikizi was already flat on her side when Ragnar skidded to a halt in the foaling stall. Keren was at her hindquarters, assisting the birth. Ragnar panicked for a moment, worried that something was wrong. He dropped to his knees beside her, uncertainly turning his head back and forth from her head to her rear.

"Relax, papa. Everything is going fine." Keren grinned at Ragnar's anxious expression.

Ragnar moved to assist Keren. The foal's forelegs and head were already emerging. "Wrap that cloth around her tail." Keren nodded at a nearby pile of gear.

Ragnar picked up a cloth and held Mikizi's tail. Fumbling nervously, it took him three tries before he had Mikizi's tail securely wrapped. Mikizi lifted her head to look at Ragnar, then groaned and lay flat once more. Ragnar started to get up to cuddle her head. "Stay here! You're needed here!" Keren ordered. Ragnar sat down again.

Mikizi lifted her hind leg and groaned again, straining to push the foal out. Ragnar moaned in sympathy. Keren smiled knowingly. "I said 'relax.'" Turning back to Mikizi she said "Push, my girl. Push!" The foal's nose was now visible.

Mikizi groaned and contracted again before lying flat once more, breathing rapidly. Sherrill was now beside her head, stroking and comforting the mare. "Again, my girl! Now!" Keren said.

Mikizi lifted her leg once more and groaned louder than ever. The foal slid three quarters of the way out, only its hindquarters remained inside. As Keren tore the amniotic sac, Mikizi gave one more push and the foal lay on the straw. Keren grabbed a towel and began rubbing the foal dry; Ragnar grabbed another and did the same; he cleared the last of the sac from the foal's hind legs. "It's a boy, papa." Keren grinned at him and tossed her head towards Mikizi's front.

Ragnar scrambled on his hands and knees to cuddle and caress Mikizi's head. He kissed her and petted her "You are the most wonderful mother ever."

Mikizi snorted lightly. _::I have done this before, you know.::_ She said, sending an image of a raised eyebrow. Ragnar smiled and kissed her again.

Shifting around, Mikizi bent to sniff at her new son. She and the foal touched noses.

"It appears I am not needed." Kyminn said dryly. The Healer stood at the door, leaning on his cane.

Ragnar grinned at the healer and turned back to Mikizi, who was now breathing normally. Gathering her legs under herself, Mikizi got to her feet with Ragnar offering needless support.

The mare turned around and nuzzled the foal, who was still panting on the straw, his ears floppy and his coat damp. Mikizi licked him gently as she stood over him.

"What's his name?" Ragnar and Keren asked simultaneously.

 _::Jakayr.::_ Mikizi said. Ragnar told the others.

Hearing his name spoken, the foal lifted his head. He attempted to rise on his forehand, but fell back.

Ragnar, Keren, Kyminn and the small crowd that had gathered in the aisle stood silently for several sunwidths as little Jakayr found his feet and finally managed to stand on wobbly legs. With gentle nudges from Mikizi, he found his way to her teats and began to nurse.

Kyminn gave both the mare and foal a quick check and pronounced everything good before leaving.

###

 _::Are you sure he is ready for this?::_ Ragnar eyed Jakayr anxiously as the young colt ambled beside his dam. The rising sun tinted the youngster's coat orange as they left Haven on the North Road. Leaving early allowed them to make their way through the city's winding streets before they got too busy.

Jakayr pinned his ears as he looked up at Ragnar and blew a dismissive snort.

 _::Well, he thinks so.::_ Mikizi chuckled in Ragnar's mind.

Not at all reassured, Ragnar said. _::Let's be careful. I don't want to strain either of you. We'll rest often.::_

Jakayr snorted annoyance once more before sprinting ahead a hundred yards. He stopped to graze beside the road while Mikizi walked along unconcerned.

 _::You, my Chosen, are a worrywart.::_ Mikizi sounded more amused than irritated.

Ragnar tried to repress his doubts, resolving to say nothing. Not that Mikizi wasn't aware of them, anyways.

 _::Especially when your shields are leaking like a drunken cooper's barrel.::_ Mikizi snorted.

Ragnar tightened his shields. He looked Jakayr over. At two and a half moons, the colt was sturdy and well-muscled. Over the summer, Ragnar enjoyed watching Jakayr run and play with the other foals in Companions' field. Keren reassured Ragnar Companion foals developed faster and were generally studier than the foals of regular horses. Ragnar did not have the horse experience to make a comparison, but stablemaster Tahk said the same thing. Ragnar deferred to their opinion reluctantly, all the while fretting the journey might overstrain Jakayr.

Jakayr pinned his ears and snorted once more. _::Your thoughts are leaking again.::_ Mikizi laughed.

Ragnar turned his attention to the road, which was slowly becoming more crowded. Unlike his journey from Redruth, when he, Ansen and Leo moved at the trot and canter and wove their way through the other travelers, Mikizi now stayed at a steady walk, neither faster nor slower than those around them. Maybe, Ragnar thought, Jakayr would be fine.

Mikizi and Jakayr both blew loudly.

###

In the late afternoon, Tom Murray and Bryston greeted them a half mile from Leuven: His Companion told him they were approaching.

Tom's left arm was in a sling. "I was halfway through my first solo circuit when a trio of farmers took exception to my judgement against them." Tom explained cheerfully. "I took care of one of them before another whacked my arm with a shovel. I'm on leave until I can return to duty, so I decided to spend time with my family."

"What happened to the farmers?" Ragnar asked.

"Oh, Bryston subdued them until the other villagers could tie them up."

With a wicked glint in his blue eye, Bryston arched his neck and stamped a hoof meaningfully. Tom laughed and stroked the stallion's neck. "I fined them ten shillings each and sentenced them to thirty days service on the road gangs. That will allow them to get back home in time for their harvest."

Ragnar admired the nuanced sentence: Just enough for the farmers to know they were being punished, but not so long they would lose their harvest. Better yet, the farmers would have every incentive to be model prisoners in order to avoid additional time which might delay their release.

 _::You've been paying attention to Mirilin, my dear.::_ Mikizi approved.

They arrived at The Blue and The White and untacked Mikizi and Bryston. Tom's sister Kitya dropped all her fifteen-year-old's pretense of sophistication and made a beeline for Jakayr, who stood with his ears pinned while she cooed and fussed over him. As soon as Ragnar and Tom finished caring for the adult Companions, Jakayr darted through the gate into the field reserved for Companions. Mikizi gave Kitya an affectionate nuzzle before following her son.

Sonja Murray escorted Ragnar to the 'Heralds' table' and presented him with the register. It was too early for dinner so Ragnar and Tom sipped kava and talked about the Collegium. They shared their stories of Kensie and Bredin.

When Ragnar said he was going to Bransat to spend a sennight with Count Wyeth and his family, Tom was puzzled. "Usually, we avoid guesting with anyone besides our own families, especially highborn. That way, we can't be accused of favoritism."

"Elcarth and Kyril told me that, but they thought it would give me experience in Courtly Graces." Ragnar said. Tom grinned knowingly at him and Ragnar blushed. "I know. I'm guessing that story is being told in Seejay by now."

"Probably. Rumor is the only thing that is faster than a Companion." Tom agreed.

After dinner, they passed the evening in conversation. When the bard playing at the in struck up 'The Grey Stallion', Tom said. "Bredin hated that song. He put on a brave face and smiled, but he hated it." Tom told Ragnar the story behind the song.

At the end of the evening, they made a quick visit to the Companions and went to bed.

###

Tom warned Ragnar about Martin and Leif and Leif's gift, so he wasn't surprised when the pair met him half a mile from Bransat. Both were mounted on small palfreys and escorted by a man riding a huge black stallion. Ragnar recognized Lord Martin, who introduced Leif Kase. Leif was dressed more plainly than Martin, but more like a minor highborn than a merchant's son. The man on the black introduced himself as Sir Chase Tanner; Count Wyeth's horsemaster had a weathered face and a touch of grey peppered his brown hair. From the way Sir Chase carried himself, Ragnar could see he was an experienced soldier. The two boys fell in on either side of Mikizi and Jakayr with Sir Chase following behind.

Martin and Leif chattered happily to Ragnar all the way to Bransat Manor, casting covetous glances at Jakayr as they went. Jakayr ignored them, only giving Ragnar reproachful looks from time to time.

Count Wyeth and Lady Lora waited at the foot of the stairs beside Baron Grayson and Lady Mina. Gaytha had drilled Ragnar for candlemarks for this moment. Ragnar dismounted and shook hands first with Baron Grayson and his wife, who were technically his hosts, then with Count Wyeth and Lady Lora, giving all four the 'bow to one of higher rank' as he did so. Ragnar introduced Mikizi and Jakayr: Grayson looked strained and faintly incredulous as he welcomed the Companions; Count Wyeth accepted them as a matter of course.

Greetings done, Count Wyeth said "I know you need to care for Mikizi first. Please join us once you are ready. Spod will show you to the special stall and paddock we made for – Companions."

Ragnar noticed the hesitation and twinge of sorrow on the Count's face. He thanked Count Wyeth and followed Spod. Martin and Leif went with them on either side of Mikizi and Ragnar. Jakayr scooted ahead, through the stall and out into the large grassy paddock beyond.

Ragnar untacked Mikizi and groomed her (with the well-meaning 'assistance' of Martin and Leif). Picking up his saddlebags, he, Spod and the boys returned to the manor. Mikizi went out into the paddock to join Jakayr, who had managed to evade the boys' offers to groom him.

Bransat Manor was Count Wyeth's 'country home' and not as elaborately decorated as Poldara House in Haven, but it was still far more luxurious than any place Ragnar had ever stayed. But Elcarth and Gaytha spend a fortnight preparing Ragnar for the visit, including 'rehearsals' in one of the vacant suites of the Palace and observations of the Court from hidden galleries, so the surroundings did not overwhelm him. "Even if you are nervous, act as though you are absolutely sure of what you are doing." Gaytha advised with a wink. "Brass trumps protocol nine times out of ten."

After a quick bath and change to a set of the formal grays Gaytha sent with Ragnar, he joined his hosts on a balcony of the "Count's suite" overlooking the river valley and the town of Bransat. Grayson Poldara and his wife Mina joined them as well. Count Wyeth seemed more relaxed than his second son, whose expression was slightly condescending.

 _::Count Wyeth_ knows _he has rank, is self-assured and knows how to put others at ease.::_ Mikizi put in. _::Grayson knows his duty but hasn't yet learned his father's touch.::_

"Will Lord Martin and Master Leif be joining us?" Ragnar asked.

Count Wyeth smiled. "No they had a brief respite from lessons to welcome you, but they are now back with the armsmaster. If you listen closely, you can hear them." He paused for a moment. In the silence, Ragnar could hear shouted instructions and the clacking of wooden practice blades. Ragnar smiled back at the Count.

"So, you were in the guard before you were Chosen?" Wyeth asked.

"I was an auxiliary scout." Ragnar said. "Colonel Chase said she was going to recommend me for the regular guard, but Mikizi came first."

The count chuckled knowingly. "Ah, yes! If Companions are the fastest way to send a message, Guard procedures are the slowest. When I was an ensign, it once took me a whole moon to get new uniforms for my squad. But what was it like being a scout on the Karse border?"

For the rest of the afternoon, Wyeth drew Ragnar out on his experiences scouting along the border. Fascinated, Grayson soon lost his reserve and added questions of his own. Ragnar noticed that the Count worried about the possibility of war with Karse while his son sounded eager for it. Whenever Grayson got too enthusiastic, Count Wyeth would recall a horrible war experience of his own.

Dinnertime arrived and Lady Mina led them to the 'family' dining room. Martin and Leif joined them there. Grayson and Mina's own son, Cassius, was too young to join them. Over dinner, the ladies now took their turn to question Ragnar, asking about his life in the clans.

Ragnar answered carefully, describing his training in tracking, hunting, fighting and seamanship, including the building of boats and sailmaking, while tactfully avoiding the more brutal aspects of clan life. When he described life in the longhouses, Mina remarked at the lack of privacy.

"That is true, My Lady." Ragnar said. "Everyone knew what everyone else was doing. We did have curtains to separate each family, but it was all very open. It is bad manners to stare and pry and equally bad manners to be loud and disturb others. In good weather, we spend a lot of time outdoors. There was also Tatakat."

The others looked at him curiously. Ragnar explained "Strictly speaking, 'tatakat' means 'silence', but Tatakat is a way of withdrawing. When winter or bad weather confines everyone to the longhouse, someone who does not want to be with others does Tatakat: They sit facing the walls, saying nothing. Sometimes they cover themselves with a blanket. It is very rude to disturb someone in Tatakat."

Lady Lora looked pensive. "I see. It is a way of being 'alone', even in a crowded room."

Lady Lora asked about Ragnar's mother, he paused. Softly, he said "The clans treat women very badly. My father took my mother as a raid-prize: For all that he loved her, she was really his slave. I like my new home better."

In the awkward pause that followed, Lord Martin piped up. "Did you get that scar in battle?"

Lady Lora tried to shush her son, but Ragnar grinned. "No, it is my blooding scar, when I was made a warrior." Ragnar went on to describe the ritual for young warriors, starting with the Vision Quest and ending with Dancing the Fire. The others were fascinated, listening raptly.

"That sounds much like a knighting in Valdemar." Grayson commented. "We do a vigil the night before the dubbing, praying for guidance and insight."

Ragnar nodded. "Shaman Kadir said the aim of the Vision Quest was self-knowledge." He decided not to mention his vision of the Eagle, saying only that the shaman told him he would have find others to train him.

###

The next morning, Ragnar went to see Bredin's family. He rode Mikizi down to the village; Jakayr flatly refused to leave the paddock. "Little bugger doesn't want anyone near him" Cael Warfield said. Jakayr turned his back on the Count's stableman and pinned his ears.

 _::Are you sure he'll be ok on his own?::_ Ragnar asked. Jakayr gave Ragnar a dirty look.

Mikizi sniffed. _::The question is more whether the people will be ok.::_.

Leaving Jakayr standing in the middle of the paddock, they set off.

Enro and Zelar Kase were waiting for Ragnar when he rode up on Mikizi. So was half the town. To forestall wild rumors and speculation, Count Wyeth let everyone know Ragnar was coming. The result was still a festival, but the warning allowed Reeve Dane to make preparations to prevent a mob scene. When he told Enro, the count emphasized the story of Ragnar recovering Bredin and Kensie's bodies: Ragnar barely had time to introduce himself before Zelar and Enro tearfully embraced him, thanking him for what he'd done.

Ragnar soon found himself and Mikizi surrounded by people coming forward to greet them and touch them. Everyone had a story to tell of Bredin and, occasionally, Kensie. Ragnar could barely acknowledge each person before another took his or her place. Nonplussed and overwhelmed, Ragnar could barely get a word in edgewise.

 _::Get used to it, dear. This isn't much worse than what you will see on circuit.::_ The throng engulfed Mikizi, too, petting her on all sides and seeking her attention.

Ragnar spoke up. "Please allow Mikizi to return to her foal. Open a way for her." Though the townspeople had seen Lacaral come and go on his own many times, they were still dubious. Reluctantly, they opened a path for her, allowing her to turn and canter up the street and over the bridge. Cael Warfield would untack her at the manor as well as put the tack back on when Ragnar was ready to return.

"I thought she would stay here." Enro gestured at the special stall that had once been Lacaral's, cleaned and refreshed. "Companion Viveka used this stall when Herald Corey did the review for Bransat six moons ago." Enro boasted. His face clouded a little. "Viveka was Lacaral's dam."

Another candlemark of greetings and shaking hands followed. The names and faces blurred together, he could not remember them all. Ragnar worried he might slight someone later by forgetting a name. _::Don't worry, dear. You'll learn to fake it.::_ Mikizi said.

Eventually, the mob eased. Enro appointed himself Ragnar's guide for a tour of the town, telling his guest stories of what Bredin had done here or there. The only time Enro mentioned Kensie was in front of the Temple of the Twain, saying that Bredin had put the Truth Spell on Kensie when the latter renounced his inheritance.

At noon, they stopped at the Boarshead, where Ragnar found himself the chief entertainment as the townspeople peppered him with questions. It was Micah Cork who finally pointed to Ragnar's forehead and asked "Did you get that scar fighting bandits?"

Four years of experience had taught Ragnar to meet the issue head on. "It is my blooding scar from when I was made a warrior of the Eagle Clan. I was a pirate on Lake Evendim." Jaws dropped throughout the crowd. Ragnar told the dumbfounded townspeople of his clan and their ways.

"It was Herald Kensie who spoke up for me." Ragnar said. "I owed him a life debt. Now I am Valdemaran and a Herald Trainee. Now I have a chance to make things right."

"How do we know we can trust you?" Jeran Rankin said. The innkeeper's son looked belligerently at Ragnar. Some of the townspeople seemed to share Jeran's doubts, most looked embarrassed.

"I can give you my word that I will be loyal." Ragnar said. "But that is only my word, take it or not." Ragnar shrugged. "Beyond that, ask the Companions and Heralds, _**I**_ believe they are trustworthy." The doubters shifted nervously; for all of Valdemar's history, they trusted Heralds. The notion the Heralds could be wrong was unthinkable.

At the end of the afternoon, Ragnar returned to the Kase house and joined them for dinner. To his surprise, Lord Martin was there as well, brought by a bodyguard. Zelar explained how, while in Bransat, Leif had dinner with his own family three nights in each sennight and Lord Martin joined them for a fourth night. The other three nights, Leif had supper with the Count and his family. The practice was so settled that Enro had lost his ingrained deference to Lord Martin's rank and now treated the boy no differently than his own grandson. Ragnar smiled inwardly at this, seeing how Count Wyeth was teaching his youngest son to accept others while Leif learned to move among the highborn.

Now able to speak quietly with Enro and Zelar, Ragnar could tell them his sorrow over failing to save Bredin and Kensie. In his own way, Enro had already rationalized Bredin's death. "If Lacaral couldn't save him, how could you?" Enro asked. "It was those damned Karsites. The Count told me how you brought them home afterwards. It's us who are in your debt." Zelar nodded agreement and wiped a tear from her eye.

Shortly after the late summer sunset, Mikizi returned along with Lord Martin's bodyguard. "Leif will come up to Bransat Manor tomorrow morning." Martin said as they crossed the bridge.

####

Ragnar joined Count Wyeth for an early breakfast the next morning. Over the meal, the Count told Ragnar of his plans for Martin and Leif. "I don't want Martin to become a useless hanger-on, hoping to make his fortune through a good marriage. I admire Urson Felthan, whom I believe you know, and his determination to make his own way. When Martin made friends with Leif Kase, I saw a way for Martin to learn to work with others who don't have his birth rank. I can't just use young Leif, of course. I'll see to it that he gets opportunities of his own."

 _::He's still using Leif, of course.::_ Mikizi put in. _::But Leif is getting an opportunity most commoners would never dream of.::_

Ragnar kept an impassive mien. He remembered Mikizi's hints that both boys might be Chosen. _::You mean if one of your blue-eyed white friends doesn't kidnap them first.::_

 _::I tell no futures, Chosen. But even so, they will be well prepared for the Collegium, don't you think?::_ Mikizi's mindvoice was smug.

Lord Grayson joined them, apologizing for his lateness. "I wanted to get a ride in before breakfast. I am due in the Courthouse in half a candlemark for morning assizes." Count Wyeth asked his son about a few cases, which the young lord answered quickly while eating as quickly as good manners permitted. Ragnar noted that the Count did not comment on Lord Grayson's replies.

 _::Like Mirilin in your law classes, Count Wyeth is allowing his son to make his own mistakes._ :: Mikizi said.

Ragnar nodded mentally, but his mind focused on something else: Highborn had duties. Count Wyeth and his son took them seriously. Ragnar decided his visit to Bransat was the perfect opportunity to learn something about the life of the nobles. Diffidently, he asked Count Wyeth about the Count's courts. Count Wyeth gave Ragnar a brief outline and invited him to watch some of the proceedings.

As the breakfast concluded, Count Wyeth wiped his lips. "I have concealed something, or rather, someone from you. It is time for you to meet him." He rose and Ragnar followed, wondering what the Count had in store.

Count Wyeth led Ragnar through the courtyard and into the training yard, where a circle of his armsmen surrounded two men sparring, one apparently instructing the other.

There was a 'thwack' and a grunt. "See! That's what happens when you guard too high." Ragnar thought he recognized the voice.

One of the armsmen spotted the Count and alerted the others, who turned to face Count Wyeth and opened a space in the circle of spectators, revealing the two men within.

Ragnar's jaw dropped and so did Khal Alikan's. They stared at one another tensely while the armsmen looked back and forth between them. "You two know each other?" One of the armsmen asked.

Khal Alikan turned to the armsmen. "Go through the standard drill twice. I must talk to the Count." With uncertain glances, the armsmen began to practice. Khal Alikan walked over to where Ragnar and the Count stood.

"I know how you two met before." Count Wyeth said. Looking Ragnar in the eye, he went on. "Colonel Chase knew me from my own time in the guard. She wrote to me, saying that Captain Alikan was truly sorry for his actions and asking me to forgive him. At the time, my old armsmaster had just retired. When Herald Alberich added his recommendation to the Colonel's, I took Lord Alikan into my service. I have made my peace with him and hope you will do the same."

Ragnar hesitated until Mikizi spoke. _::If Count Wyeth can forgive a man who helped to kill his son, can you do less?::_

Slowly, Ragnar held out his hand. Khal Alikan took it. "I am truly sorry." The former Karsite captain said. After a short conversation, Khal Alikan returned to his instruction and the Count left with Ragnar walking silently at his side.

####

After lunch, Ragnar was grooming Mikizi when Khal returned from a ride on his stallion. Cautiously, the two began speaking, sharing their experiences. Within a candlemark, Ragnar realized he liked this man. They were still talking when Khal's elder son came in.

Dietrich's eyes went wide as he saw Mikizi and he made a beeline for her. "Ghost horse!" He said in Karsite, eliciting laugh from Ragnar.

"Told you we would meet again." Ragnar said as Khal looked fondly at his son. The boy barely acknowledged Ragnar as he continued raptly stroking Mikizi. From his mother's other side, Jakayr snorted his disgust.


	22. Chapter 22 - Internship

Chapter 22 – Internship

" _We must go beyond textbooks, go out into the bypaths and untrodden depths of the wilderness and travel and explore and tell the world the glories of our journey." - John Hope Franklin_ _  
_

"…I so swear by all that I hold Holy and True." Ragnar finished his oath. He kissed Selenay's hand and rose, returning to the line of his yearmates as Pike took his place.

Around the newly graduated, the Heraldic Circle stood in the noonday sun, resplendent in their formal Whites. Mikizi stood at Ragnar's back, her warm breath flowing gently over his shoulder. In front of the new Heralds, the Queen and her Council stood in a line, witness to their oaths. At the Queen's right hand, a lone figure in formal Greys contrasted with the bejewelled nobles. The Queen's Own Herald smiled back at Ragnar, Pike and the others; Ragnar thought Talia looked wistful, perhaps anticipating the day she would stand where Ragnar and his fellows stood to give her oath.

Ragnar avoided looking at the nobleman standing on the Queen's left. He had never seen the man before; Mikizi told him the man was Lord Orthallen. Orthallen was strikingly handsome and impeccably groomed, his elaborate court dress elegant without being ostentatious. Though Orthallen's smile appeared cheerful, he bothered Ragnar deeply. Ragnar's spirit sense rebelled against the nobleman: Though Ragnar knew nothing of this man, he sensed a deep and abiding evil.

 _::We do not like him either.::_ Mikizi said. Ragnar realized she spoke for the Companions. With nothing tangible to offer, Ragnar held his peace, but he knew that he would never trust Lord Orthallen.

The ceremony concluded, Ragnar and his yearmates bowed to the Queen as she and her Councillors withdrew. The Heraldic circle applauded and came forward to congratulate their new brothers and sisters. Ragnar was amused to see even Alberich in formal Whites for once.

After a quick change out of their formal Whites, Ragnar and his yearmates headed for Companions' field for a private celebration. Though generally lively as most trainee celebrations, there was an overtone of melancholy as they knew they would probably never meet as a single group again.

####

An hour after dawn, Ragnar and Mikizi were a mile south of Haven. If there was any place in Valdemar that felt like home to Ragnar, it was the waystation at Gillhold. That was where he went on his pre-internship leave. In the hot summer days, they took the journey in easy stages, arriving at Gillhold in the afternoon of the third day.

A delighted Shanis Rains welcomed Ragnar as he rode into the foreyard. Shanis hugged Ragnar fiercely as he dismounted from Mikizi. As proudly as though he were her own son, she showed him into Companions' Hall. Once he and Mikizi were settled, they joined her at the table, where she questioned him about his life at the Collegium.

When Ragnar mentioned his meeting with Count Wyeth and visit to Bransat, Shanis told him of the history between Kensie and Bredin as boys. "They hated one another. Kensie was as rude and snotty as any highborn can be and Bredin had a temper like a wild-cat. Kensie loved to poke Bredin for a reaction, which gave him an excuse to beat Bredin." She smiled slightly. "The beating stopped after Bredin started training with the Iron Monks."

Ragnar nodded, at last understanding the tension between the two Heralds when he'd seen them at Gillhold nearly four years ago. "I think they learned to become friends." He said.

Ragnar enjoyed two sennights at Gillhold, sharing stories of his time as a scout with Shanis Rains, greeting the Heralds passing through, practicing with the guardsmen in the yard, even helping with the chores as he once did. In the evenings, he would play chess with Shanis or talk with the Heralds passing through; some days he would ride out on Mikizi, going down to the Terilee or up to the top of Midwinter Hill.

On the fourth night, there was a full moon. Clouds covered most of the sky as Ragnar and Mikizi made their way to the spot Werra showed him years before. He could sense the power in the place, but needed the lantern to draw his casting circle. He took his place at the south and Mikizi stood in the east. Closing the lantern flap, he waited in the darkness; though clouds hid Ayawin's face, Ragnar sensed the approach of midnight. Closing his eyes, he prayed to the Eagle and every god he knew about. The talisman from Adrian and the Vkandis medal resonated with the power of the node. Now, in the north and west, Ragnar sensed two _presences_ opposite himself and Mikizi. He cast the stones.

Ragnar held his meditation before opening his eyes. In the north and west, the Eagle and the Windrider lingered for a moment before fading. Still in the dark, he could sense some of what the stones told. There was change coming in the south and east: The ways of centuries would reverse. War would become peace and peace, war. The gods themselves were stirring. A series of dangers lay ahead, each greater than the last.

Ragnar picked up the lantern and opened the flap. The black stone still threatened: Ragnar would confront the priest at least once, possibly twice more. The priest was the lesser danger; the others threatened the entire world: The Jyarakstorm was coming.

###

"I see the usual greeting committee is here." Herald Mani pointed his chin ahead as they neared Bransat. Ragnar followed his internship mentor's look and spotted Martin Poldara and Leif Kase standing at the gate of Bransat Manor.

Ragnar smiled. "I met those two a year ago. I learned about their obsession and young Leif's odd gift."

Coming up to the two boys, Caiseal and Mikizi stopped. The boys' eyes widened. "Ragnar! You're a Herald now!" Martin blurted out.

Ragnar laughed. "Hello, Martin, Leif. Actually, I am just interning with Herald Mani."

"We know Herald Mani!" Leif piped up. "We've met him and Caiseal lots of times."

Ragnar looked at his mentor. "They meet us every time we pass through Bransat." Mani sighed. "As I said, they're the greeting committee." Mani turned to the boys. "Hello you two. Caiseal is happy to see you again."

"And so is Mikizi." Ragnar added as they reached out to stroke the Companions.

They allowed the two boys a few moments to pet Mikizi and Caiseal – and offer each an apple – before they started to move once more. They waved back at the boys as they disappeared around the bend.

"As likely a pair to be Chosen as any I've met." Mani said as the Companions resumed a light canter. Mani described how the two met every Companion passing through. "The Kase boy – Bredin's nephew – not only knows every time a Companion is near, he can recognize them individually. It's as if he is linked to them in some way."

 _::Not really linked to us. It goes deeper than that.::_ Caiseal said.

"And, of course, you're not going to tell me what this 'deeper' thing is, are you?" Mani said, a touch of exasperation in his tone. Both Companions whickered.

Mani asked Ragnar how he knew the boys. Mani knew Ragnar was from the clans, but did not know how his intern came to Valdemar. Beginning with the failed raid at Rushton, Ragnar told his story and his connection to Kensie and Bredin.

"I never met Kensie, though Bredin spoke to me about him when he was my intern." Mani said. "I gathered there was bad blood between them. I think that was why Elcarth and Kyril sent them out together."

"That's what Adrian and I thought when we saw them at Gillhold." Ragnar said. "And when I saw them the following Midwinter, they looked at ease with each other." Ragnar went on, telling Mani about the trap at Thanesholding and how it led to his own Choosing.

 _::I'd have come eventually,::_ Mikizi said _::once you'd made up your mind.::_

###

A moon into the circuit, Ragnar's spirit sense wakened in the village of Corston. Before hearing any cases, Mani called a young woman named Lieah Pence before him. Mani actually had to call Lieah three times. Lieah was petting Caiseal and did not want to leave the Companions. Rather than demand Lieah come to the table where Mani was holding judgment, Mani patiently repeated his summons until she finally drifted over. Mani gently questioned Lieah about what she had done since the previous Herald's visit. Ragnar could see the woman was very simple minded and Mani often had to repeat questions to get answers. Mikizi explained how every Herald who visited Corston checked to see how Lieah was doing and ensure she got proper care.

Ragnar nodded. He remembered life in the Clans: No one cared for the weak and helpless. In Valdemar, everyone counted. As he reflected, his eye fell on Will Winter, the son of Lieah's employer. Ragnar's spirit sense revolted at the boy, who was watching Lieah possessively. Mindful of Mani's injunction to listen and not interrupt, Ragnar held his peace for the moment. He would tell his mentor when they broke for lunch.

 _::I doubt he will do anything while you and Mani are here.::_ Mikizi agreed. _::Everyone's honest when the Watchman is near.::_

The cases proceeded through the morning. Ragnar watched and listened as Mani questioned the villagers and gave his judgments, occasionally hiding a smile as Mani gave the especially foolish an acid piece of his mind. Noon arrived and they went to the Rose and Crown for lunch. _::Caiseal says you have something to tell me.::_ Mani said as they sat down.

In mindspeech, Ragnar told the Senior Herald what he had seen on the face of Will Winter and the reaction of his spirit sense.

Mani sat silently for a few minutes. _::We've been watching that girl ever since I came here with Bredin five years ago. She may be simple-minded, but her body has matured since then. She is woman-grown now, even if her mind is still child-like. It is not surprising she could attract the desires of a young man, even if the attraction was purely physical. We should have been watching for it. I don't understand that spirit sense of yours, but I trust another Herald's instincts. Very well done, Ragnar and thank you for bringing it to my attention.::_

Ragnar brightened at Mani's compliment. As they ate their lunch, they worked out a strategy to protect Lieah. While Mani continued to review the cases, Ragnar would visit Lieah at her employer's house.

As an official 'reason' for the visit, Ragnar went with the village Healer, Tina Kuipers, ostensibly to see that Lieah's living quarters were clean and healthy. Healer Kuipers had only a minor healing gift, but she had trained at the Collegium in Haven and was familiar with Heralds and their ways. "There's more to this than you are letting on, isn't there?" Tina asked quietly as she showed Ragnar the way to Duncan Winter's farmstead.

Ragnar nodded. In a soft voice he told the Healer what he'd noticed. She snorted "I've been watching that. She has a woman's figure now and Will's just getting to the age where the urge is stronger than his brain. I tried to talk to Duncan, but he's too honest himself to see anything wrong with his son. Will won't listen to me, but maybe he'll listen to a Herald."

Duncan Winter was out in his fields when they arrived, but his wife Kyra let them in willingly. With Lieah fluttering nearby, Ragnar and Tina made the 'official' inspection of Lieah's living conditions and found them satisfactory. Meanwhile, Mikizi stayed outside, watching for Will.

 _::He's watching me right now.::_ She said. _::From a distance.::_ As usual, Mikizi was surrounded by small children vying for her attention.

They thanked Goodwife Kyra and left the house. Ragnar looked around and spotted Will; the boy straightened warily as he saw Ragnar approach. Ragnar went directly to the point "I saw you looking at Lieah this morning. Leave her alone."

Will looked resentful, but he did not quite sneer. "She's a looker, but she ain't got no brain. A man can look, can't he?"

Ragnar nearly laughed at the boy's cocky pose. Ragnar was a head and a half taller than Will, who appeared about fourteen. Instead of mocking the boy, he said simply "Looking is one thing, touching is another. When it comes to someone who can't understand, it is wrong. You can be better than that."

The boy smirked "Then why did the gods give her a body like that?"

Ragnar wanted to smack Will's face. "I do not know the Will of the Gods and neither do you. Leave her alone. She is under our protection. Touch her and you will answer to a Herald."

"She's got a body. She's got the urge, why shouldn't I?" The boy's face showed contempt.

Ragnar had had enough. "You have been warned. Touch her and I'll nail your balls to a tree."

Will looked shocked at Ragnar's blunt speech. Clenching his fists, he looked ready to challenge Ragnar and stepped closer. Ragnar looked down at him impassively. Shorter and outweighed, the boy controlled himself. Ragnar thought that Will would have swung on him if he were closer to Ragnar's size.

Will looked at the ground. "Alright, Herald, I won't touch her." _::…not while you whitecoats are around, anyways.::_

Ragnar blinked. His shields were up. The boy must have put a lot of force behind the thought for Ragnar to pick it up. This wasn't over yet. He sighed mentally. "Remember that. We will watch and we will check. You can't hide it from us."

Will sneered at Ragnar, but said nothing. Ragnar felt certain his words had little effect. As he returned to the village with Healer Tina, the two shared their unease. They arranged for the Healer to send word to Ragnar and Mani immediately if anything happened.

###

"Ragnar and I have met before." Major Joshua Peregrine interrupted Mani's introduction. He grinned and offered his hand to Ragnar, who closed his mouth and took the officer's hand. "I am truly pleased to see you. My cousin's faith in you was well placed."

Major Peregrine, newly appointed as commander of Norflan, welcomed the two Heralds to the guard post, where they would join the guardsmen's Sovran feast in two days. As Major Peregrine personally escorted the two Heralds to their quarters, he told Mani how he and the other Captains tried Ragnar for the raid on Rushton and spared him at the request of Kensie, then an ensign in Joshua Peregrine's command at North Evendim.

After they stowed their gear and refreshed themselves, Mani led Ragnar back to the stable, where the post stablemaster had already resaddled Caiseal and Mikizi. "Time to show you the border." Mani said.

Ragnar shrugged and mounted. He remembered the Karse boarder and the _wrongness_ he felt in Karse. He wondered if the Iftel border would be as strange. He questioned Mikizi.

 _::You'll see.::_ There was mischief in her voice.

Ragnar held his peace when Mani turned off the main road onto game trails. When Mani asked Ragnar what he'd learned about Iftel, Ragnar told him Kyril said Valdemar knew next to nothing about Iftel.

"What did your fellow students say?" Mani's eyes twinkled.

"There are flying monsters." Ragnar said.

"What did you think of the stories?"

Ragnar shrugged. "Clan lands border the Pelagirs. We _knew_ there were monsters in the forest. Why shouldn't there be monsters in Iftel? Besides, I've met monsters in Karse."

Before Ragnar could explain, they reached a clearing. Ragnar's jaw dropped. "By the Eagle!" He exclaimed.

Mani was taken aback by Ragnar's strong reaction, but tried to maintain an expression of equanimity. "You can see the barrier?" He asked, guessing Ragnar's gifts showed it to him. As Ragnar dismounted and walked towards it, Mani added. "Just touch it. Don't strike it or attempt to pass through."

The barrier dazzled Ragnar. To his ordinary vision, there was nothing there; to his spirit vision, there was a glowing wall of coruscating light that flowed and flared in countless brilliant 'colors'. He stopped an armslength from it, dumbstruck by the sheer beauty. He gazed at it while Mani walked up to stand beside him. "It's beautiful." He said.

Mani blinked. "You're my first Intern who's ever said that. You actually _see_ the barrier?" The Senior Herald was incredulous.

Ragnar glanced at Mani in surprise. "You don't?" When Mani shook his head, Ragnar faced the barrier once more, searching for words to describe it. Failing, he said simply "It's wonderful." He raised his hand hesitantly.

"Go ahead. Touch it." Mani ordered. "Just touch it."

Cautiously, Ragnar obeyed. As slowly and gently as possible, he touched it with his fingertips.

' _Not yet.'_

Ragnar smiled and lowered his hand. He stared silently at the barrier until Mani said "Well?" When Ragnar told him, Mani's eyebrows shot up. "Everyone before has gotten a flat 'no'. What makes you different?"

Ragnar looked at him, not understanding the question. Mani told him how the barrier hitherto outright forbade anyone to enter. "Elcarth, Kyril and Selenay are going to be very interested. They're going to want to know 'Why Ragnar?' and 'Why now?'" Mani looked at Ragnar expectantly.

Ragnar shrugged. "I caught the implication there are things about to happen. Maybe they have something to do with the dangers foretold in the stones." A moon ago, Mani joined Ragnar 'reading the stones: Mani vaguely sensed a _presence_ and accepted Caiseal's word of an otherworldly manifestation, but took Ragnar's reading as too vague to be meaningful. Mani wondered about the connection.

"As for 'Why me?'" Ragnar went on. "I have no clue."

Mani, Caiseal and Mikizi all snorted. "You're three quarters the way to a priest – or a shaman – already. That's probably why."

There was nothing further to be done for now. Reluctantly, Ragnar turned away from the barrier and mounted Mikizi. As they rode back to the guardpost, Mani explained the history with Iftel and how only certain trusted traders could enter.


	23. Chapter 23 - Into the White

Chapter 23 – Into the White

" _For the things we have to learn before we can do them, we learn by doing them."―_ _Aristotle,_ _The Nicomachean Ethics_

Greg Twells galloped his exhausted horse into the Norflan parade ground just as the men and officers sat down to their Sovran feast, demanding to speak to the Heralds.

Mani and Ragnar met the messenger in Major Peregrine's office. Mani recognized Greg as the son of the headman in Corston, John Twells. "Healer Kuipers sent me. She says one of you must come and help. Lieah Pence is pregnant. She says Will Winter is the father. Duncan Winter has denied it and thrown her out of the house."

Ragnar opened his mouth in outrage before Mani waved him to silence. "Where is Lieah now?" Mani asked.

"She's at the Healer's home." The young messenger said.

"Well, at least she's safe for now." Mani commented.

Greg shook his head. "She wants to run away – to go back to Will, who she thinks loves her. Will curses her and claims she attacked him. Duncan backs his son and wants to punish her for 'slandering his son.' That's why my pa sent me for you."

Ragnar rose to go, but Mani stopped him. "Wait until morning." He said. "There doesn't appear to be immediate danger and you can travel faster and safer when you're rested and in daylight."

"You heard him!" Ragnar protested. "He said she's in danger!"

Mani frowned at Ragnar. He turned to Greg Twells. "How many days did it take you to get here?" Mani asked.

"Seven days, dusk to dawn." The messenger replied.

Mani turned back to Ragnar. "Seven days have passed. Even going all day and night, it will take you a day and two nights. Even by Companion, night travel is dangerous. Leave tomorrow morning. You can get there the next evening – that's only half a day later. Riding all night is not worth the risk."

"So we leave in the morning?" Ragnar asked.

"No. _You_ leave in the morning. You should be able to wrap this up and join me at Redland or Sumpost, depending how long it takes." Mani said firmly.

"But –"

Mani cut him off. "But, nothing. You're a Herald. Do your job." Behind Mani, Ragnar could see Major Peregrine smile and nod.

Ragnar set off the next morning before dawn. He stopped in Hunberston for the night and arrived at Corston at twilight the next day. He confirmed with Healer Tina Kuipers that Lieah was still safe at her home. He took time to reassure the girl he would speak to her in the morning before heading to the waystation and settling in.

###

In the morning, Ragnar was on his way to Tina Kuipers' house when Duncan Winter intercepted him. Duncan's face creased in an angry snarl. "Herald! That crazy woman is telling lies about my son!"

Ragnar did not dismount. Instead he merely raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, I'll sort it out with the Truth Spell. Bring your son to the village hall a candlemark before noon."

 _::Well, it didn't take long for him to find me.::_ Ragnar said.

Mikizi whickered a soft laugh. _::Half the village probably knew you were here by the time you reached the Healer's house. After all, they all probably knew Greg Twells went to fetch you.::_

 _::True. I wonder what his explanation for Lieah's pregnancy will be?::_ Ragnar's mindvoice dripped irony.

Mikizi pinned her ears and swished her tail. _::You know he will try to blame the girl.::_

 _::I do, love. I think this will require the coercive Truth Spell.::_

They arrived at Tina Kuipers' house and went in. Lieah wanted to 'see the Companion', so Ragnar let her visit Mikizi while he spoke to the Healer.

Tina confirmed Lieah's pregnancy and that the fetus was healthy. "About three moons, I'd say. It's a boy, but I don't have the kind of gift that allows me to identify the father. From talking to her, I'm convinced she's only had sex with Will."

"How sure are you?" Ragnar asked.

"As sure as I can be." Tina said. "She hasn't got the wits to deceive, but I can't be sure she really understands what I'm asking." When Ragnar grimaced, Tina went on. "The worst of it is, she thinks he loves her. Says he promised to marry her."

Ragnar was sure the boy had no intention to marry Lieah, even if his parents would permit it. "I'll have to convince her otherwise."

"I've tried." Tina's voice carried her frustration.

"I think I know a way." Ragnar said.

Summoning Lieah, Ragnar questioned her under the Truth Spell, arriving at the same conclusions as the Healer. Due to Lieah's childlike mind, he couldn't determine exactly how Will Winter 'promised' to marry her. He told the girl there would be a hearing and warned her that she might get upset, but told her that Mikizi would protect her, shrewdly guessing she would trust the Companion more than any human.

 _::I think you're right, Chosen.::_ Mikizi nuzzled Lieah softly, comforting the girl.

Arriving at the village hall, Ragnar called the hearing to order. To ease Lieah's anxiety, he allowed only twelve witnesses – half men, half women – plus the Headman, the Healer and those involved. He also brought Mikizi into the hall, knowing the girl would draw comfort from the Companion's presence.

 _::I can work with her on an emotional level.::_ Mikizi said. _::She doesn't need mindspeech for that.::_

Ragnar turned to Healer Kuipers first, who testified that Lieah was pregnant, between two and three moons advanced. "Does anyone wish Healer Kuipers to repeat her statement under the Truth Spell?" He asked. Everyone shook their heads, accepting her statement as simple fact.

Moving along, he began with Lieah, putting her under the Truth Spell. Patiently, with many repeated questions and clarifications, he got her to tell her story. After establishing that she had sex with Will – and as far as possible, that she had sex with no one else – he asked her why.

"Because he loves me!" Lieah said.

Will snorted contemptuously. Ragnar looked at him. "When I wish to hear from you, I will ask you. Until then, you will remain silent." He stared at Will until the young man looked down.

"Did Will say he loved you?" Ragnar asked.

"Oh, yes! He promised to marry me!" Lieah said.

"Who would want to marry an idiot like that?" Will burst out. His mother shushed him.

Ragnar kept his voice absolutely level. "I told you to remain silent. If you speak without leave again, I will throw you out of this hearing and render a judgment in Lieah's favor."

Will looked outraged and ready to speak again until his father clamped a hand on his shoulder. Though he threw an angry look at Ragnar, Duncan Winter knew his son speaking would only make matters worse.

After a few more questions, Ragnar excused Lieah.

He called Will forward. Without warning the boy, Ragnar put the coercive form of the Truth Spell on him. "Do you remember when I spoke to you when Herald Mani and I were here three moons ago?" From their startled expressions, Ragnar could tell that Duncan and Kyra Winter did not know.

"Yeah." Will sneered his answer.

"What did I tell you concerning Lieah?"

Will's jaw worked for a moment as he tried to resist the Truth Spell. "You told me to leave her alone."

"What did you think I meant by that?" Ragnar wanted to make it perfectly clear that Will understood him.

Again, Will struggled. "You didn't want me to **** her." He said finally. His mother covered her mouth in shock; the witnesses murmured among themselves. Ragnar remained expressionless, he'd expected Will to be blunt as any cocky country boy.

"Did I tell you she was under our protection?"

"Yes." Will did not hesitate this time.

"Did you have sex with Lieah Pence after Herald Mani and I left Corston?" Ragnar asked.

Will didn't try to resist the question. "Oh, yes. Probably a score of times." He puffed his chest and leered. His parent looked appalled.

"Why did you do that?"

Will sneered at Ragnar. "I'm a man, she's a woman." The women present looked outraged, the men rolled their eyes.

"Why Lieah?" Ragnar asked.

Will kept his arrogant pose. "She was available. And she's a looker."

"So you had sex with her even though I'd warned you not to?" Ragnar drove home the point.

"You wasn't around." Will smirked.

"How did you get her to have sex with her? Did you tell her you loved her? Did you 'sweet talk' her?" Ragnar wanted Will to show his true colors.

Will shrugged. "It wasn't hard. Just a few pretty words. Tell her I love her. She believed me, the dumb ****."

Lieah looked shocked at Will's cruel words. Healer Kuipers embraced the girl for what was to come. Ragnar hated himself for his next question, but he and the Healer agreed that Lieah's delusion that Will loved her had to be shattered. "Do you love her?"

Will laughed. "Of course not. Who could love a half-wit like that? She's just a bitch to be ******." The blue glow of the Truth Spell never wavered. Lieah burst into tears and wept on Tina Kuipers' shoulder. The outraged witnesses began to talk among themselves, Ragnar had to bang his gavel to restore order.

"Did you promise to marry her?" Ragnar asked.

"No." Will said.

"Why did she think you would marry her?" Ragnar had a suspicion.

"Oh, she thought I would. She talked about it whenever I got her in bed." Will's parents cringed at his words.

"Did you tell her you wouldn't marry her?"

Will smirked. "And lose ******* her? Of course not. Let the dumb bitch believe what she wants, so long as I can keep using her." The hall erupted again and Ragnar rapped his gavel.

Ragnar dismissed Will and considered for a moment. He looked at Will's parents. "Duncan and Kyra Winter, your son is legally not of age to marry without consent. Do you consent to him marrying Lieah Pence?"

Duncan scowled in outrage. "Of course not! I would never let him marry that half-wit!"

"Lieah Pence is pregnant with your son's child." Ragnar pointed out.

"That bitch could have ****** a hundred men." Duncan was as crude as his son.

"Name one and I will examine him under the Truth Spell." Ragnar countered. "If you insist the child is not Will's, I will have a Healer brought who has the Gift to See such things."

"There's a Priestess in the Masran Temple in Dunby." Tina Kuipers put in. "She can be here in four days."

Duncan Winter sagged, all bluster gone out.

Ragnar faced the hall. "I order that Lieah Pence be given shelter until her child is born. After the birth, the Winter family will pay three crowns per year to support her and her child. Further, I order that the child will have an equal share in the estates of Duncan and Kyra Winter and Will Winter as though the child had been born in wedlock."

Duncan roused again. "I'll not support a bastard!"

"I could charge Will with rape." Ragnar shot back. "Legally, Lieah is an incompetent minor. Having sex with her is a hanging offence." The blood drained from the faces of all three family members. The others in the hall covered their mouths in shock.

Duncan turned to pleading. "Please, no! He's just a boy. We'll pay the support. Let my son live."

Ragnar adopted a pensive face. "Five years ago, on the shores of Lake Evendim, soldiers captured a young pirate boy who was raiding a village. Nine soldiers died defending the village. The young pirate tried to kill an officer, but killed the officer's beloved horse instead. At the trial, the officer pleaded for mercy for the pirate, who received a sentence of mild servitude instead of hanging. After finishing the servitude, the pirate became a scout on the border, where he met the officer again. The officer was now a Herald. Evil men attacked and killed the Herald; the pirate turned scout tried and failed to save the Herald, whom he owed a life debt. What was the point of the officer's mercy?"

No one answered for a long moment. Finally, Headman Twells asked softly. "What happened to the pirate?"

Ragnar drew a finger over the scar on his forehead. "A Companion Chose me and I became a Herald myself. I believe that Will Winter can learn to be a good man, so long as he accepts responsibility for his actions and learns from his mistake."

Duncan Winter nodded his head. Ragnar banged his gavel to end the session.

In the afternoon, Ragnar arranged the details for supporting Lieah while Mikizi and Healer Kuipers consoled her. Reasoning that it was better for Lieah to leave Corston, they convinced her to go to the Masran Temple in Dunby. The next day, Ragnar took Lieah to Dunby riding pillion on Mikizi.

An early winter snow was falling as Ragnar left the temple the morning after. Lieah stood at the temple gate watching as Mikizi and Ragnar disappeared into the white swirl of snowflakes.

###

In Thornberry, Mani seconded Ragnar to check on Katie Wood, a youngster with a powerful fetching Gift. Bredin spotted Katie four years ago and arranged for her to get special training as a prospective Herald trainee. Since then, every Herald and Companion coming to Thornberry met Katie. All thought she would be Chosen, but no Companion had come for her. Ironically – and cruelly for Katie's hopes – a Companion had come to Thornberry: Companion Ohiro Chose Pierce Bellamy, the second son of the local baron.

At first glance, the tall, athletic young man impressed Katie. Then she noticed the scar on his forehead. Katie hid her disappointment and forced a smile. She knew she shouldn't let something so superficial bother her, but there it was. She wanted Heralds to be perfect, especially one so close to her own age as to be a potential suitor if he were a young man of Thornberry.

Ragnar noticed Katie's eye movements and her expression. He quickly guessed the reason and smiled. The women in Valdemar either took his blooding scar as something exotic and romantic or saw it as a disfigurement. Both reactions amused him. "It's my blooding scar, when I was made a warrior in the Clans." He said. "I'm Herald Ragnar and I believe you are Katie Wood. My mentor said I should talk to you."

Embarrassed at her own reaction, Katie flushed and stammered "Hello." She tried to compose herself while the Herald introduced himself to Father Eron and Healer Oniel.

Katie was grateful when Ragnar asked first about her academic lessons, declaring he was pleased with her knowledge of geometry and geography. He asked her questions in Hardornen and Karsite and nodded at her replies. "I never learned Rethwellan, so I will assume you speak it just as well." Ragnar smiled. On the subject of Courtly Graces, he said "I'm the wrong person to test that. Half the nobles in the palace wanted me exiled for what I said to the Queen a few years back." Katie wondered how someone so kind could anger the Queen.

After her tutors praised Katie's learning, Ragnar moved on to her Gifts. Katie's anxiety rose as Ragnar asked her about her progress and asked for demonstrations. "You have to work on those shields more. Healer Oniel has given you a good ground and center, but you have to learn to keep those shields steady at all times. Otherwise, you will be hearing the thoughts of others whenever you are upset or distracted."

Katie blushed so red that Ragnar knew he had struck a nerve. His next question terrified her. "Katie, have you been misusing your Gift? Tell me every time you have used them." Ragnar put no force behind his words and he did not apply the Truth Spell.

 _::She's too frightened to lie.::_ Mikizi put in. _::But she's afraid she's done something wrong.::_

"Tell Herald Ragnar about how you rescued Josh Wharton's mare." Helen Oniel prompted, knowing that the feat would impress the Herald and was innocent enough that Katie would have no reason for shame.

Katie told the story: Josh Wharton took a shortcut across a frozen pond in the early fall, but the ice was too thin and the horse and wagon broke through. Josh Wharton saved himself, leaving the mare to drown in the icy water. Katie raised the mare and wagon onto the bank, saving the mare's life. Ragnar's effusive praise of both the strength of her Gift and the deed itself gave her the courage to continue. She told the Herald how she had thrice thwarted Shay Gulley, a local bully, when Shay robbed a local widow and attempted to attack her later. Shay had also attempted to burn down the local inn. She had seized Shay with her Gift just as he attempted to act and hurled him into the manure pit in his father's yard. She could not meet Ragnar's eye when she said she'd caught images from Shay's mind that alerted her to what the bully planned.

Ragnar saw Katie needed a voice of authority to reassure her. Imitating old Shaman Kadir, he said "You mustn't berate yourself because your Gifts aren't fully under control. I've known Herald Trainees with years of training who are still mastering their Gifts. It's not your fault your shields failed when Shay attacked you.

"I am very impressed by the way you thwarted his misdeeds. You saved Margie and possibly several lives in a way that may scare some sense into that young fool's head. Perhaps you did more meeting out judgment than you ought when you flung him into the pig ****, but it was probably less punishment than he deserved." Katie looked up hopefully when Ragnar chuckled at the last.

Ragnar smiled at the girl. "You keep on being the 'benign spirit – " he winked at the two adults – "and you can do much good in Thornberry. Be careful and secret about it, and keep talking to Father Eron and Healer Oniel about what is right and wrong. They'll help you understand."

Katie dabbed tears from her eyes and smiled back at the Herald, relieved he was pleased and not angry.

Ragnar became serious again. "As other Heralds said, it is best if you can keep your Gift secret, so remember to always be discreet. I will have to tell Herald Mani about this. It will help him deal with Shay Gulley. Outside of him and the three of you, no one ever need know."

Katie gulped her thanks. Impulsively she threw her arms around the Herald. He hugged her back firmly before heading back to meet Mani.

 _::She's more than ready.::_ Ragnar said to Mikizi. _::She's also very vulnerable. One of you better come soon.::_

 _::Believe me, Chosen. It will happen as soon as possible.::_ Mikizi was as concerned as Ragnar.

###

Mani and Ragnar stopped again in Thornberry just after Sovran. Katie's Gifts were now public knowledge: Shay Gulley and a gang of his friends attempted to abduct Katie and a friend as 'their lady-folk' in a bandit gang. Forced to defend herself, Katie used her Gift to hurl Shay and his friends into the bush. The would-be bandits fled, but Katie's secret was out.

Instead of praising Katie, the townsfolk both shunned her and insisted she use her Gifts to help them with tasks. Most of the requests were for things the townspeople could well do for themselves, though there were a few emergencies. Baron Bellamy tried to protect Katie and rebuked the town, but the shunning and demands continued. Only a few townsfolk supported her, the rest made her life miserable.

With Katie's consent, Ragnar questioned her under the Truth Spell, proving Katie had never abused her Gifts and had helped the people in many ways that they never knew. Mani and Ragnar delivered a blistering lecture to the townspeople, ordered them to leave her alone and threatened them with fines if they did not.

"Do you think it will have any effect?" Ragnar asked Mani that night in the waystation.

"For a while, but they'll resume their shunning and demands within a moon." Mani said. He frowned "If the rules allowed it, I'd have you take her to Haven right now."

###

They returned to Haven a moon after Midwinter. In their meeting with Elcarth and Kyril, Mani praised Ragnar so enthusiastically that the young Herald blushed. Passed and confirmed as a full Herald, Ragnar spent the next three moons in Haven as an instructor in field survival and tracking.

Seven days after spring day, Ragnar stood with Elcarth as the Dean welcomed Katie Wood, Chosen by Jakayr, as a Herald Trainee. Mikizi stood beside them, proud of her son and his Chosen.


	24. Chapter 24 - War

Chapter 24 – War

 _"The first casualty when war comes is truth" - Hiram W Johnson_

"Lastern's got a problem." Major Josef Pfizer said. "Ever since his son disgraced himself, the Conclave has been demanding answers for Rhithik's abuses. Duke Alikan is demanding the Conclave lift his son's excommunication and a third of the Hierophants are supporting him. There have been two assassination attempts alongside rumors of a schism if Lastern doesn't repudiate his son. Rhithik himself is horribly scarred and hasn't been seen in Sunhame for moons. Our spies tell us Rhithik wants revenge on your Heralds for what they did to him." His eyes flicked to Ragnar's white uniform for a moment.

Herald Ragnar and Captain Alex Ritter wondered just how much the Hardornen major knew. The inquiry into what happened at Thanesholding wasn't secret and news of it had certainly reached Hardorn, but the very fact it wasn't secret probably meant that the report Major Pfizer read was little more than a summary. Seven years after the event, time and scores of other reports would blur the details.

The three men sat in the wine garden of the Drachenkopf, the best tavern and inn in Rabenbrücke. They met every three moons, alternating between Rabenbrücke, five miles inside Hardorn, and Ravens Gorge in Valdemar to share information about Karse. Unlike Valdemar, the Hardornens had an embassy in Sunhame and much better information about Karsite politics. Valdemar, with its Heralds, was better at penetrating the border and knew more about the local situation, including troop movements. Both sides benefited from exchanging information.

This was Ragnar's fifth meeting with Josef Pfizer since starting the circuit; with a good working knowledge of both Hardornen and Karsite, Ragnar was a natural choice for the circuit covering the point where the three countries met. Ragnar liked Josef Pfizer, a cultured minor noble from a local family.

"So, what brings Hierophant Rhithik to mind? And what has Lastern's situation got to do with here and now?" Captain Ritter asked.

"According to our sources, Hierophant Rhithik is at Kruk Góra." Major Pfizer smiled slightly as he saw Ragnar and Captain Ritter's eyes narrow. Deliberately casual, he added "I read an old report my predecessor left me. It seems a Valdemaran scout penetrated as far as Fulda to recover the bodies of two of your Heralds Rhithik captured, injuring Rhithik in the process. Afterwards, the Heralds recruited the scout into their ranks." Josef Pfizer's smile turned to a grin as he looked Ragnar in the eye.

Ragnar grinned back. "Yes. I was the scout and I became a Herald at that time." He didn't bother to explain what being Chosen meant. From prior experience talking to Hardornens, he knew few of them understood what Companions were and how 'horses' did the Choosing. Even Major Pfizer, sophisticated and knowledgeable, attributed the way Mikizi stood without being tied as nothing more than remarkable training. He looked southwest over the gorge of the Rabe Fluss and pointed to the mountain in Karse that gave the town and fortress its name. "So, Hierophant Rhithik sits in Kruk Góra and plots revenge against Valdemar and me. How does he plan to do it?"

"I assume he is waiting for you to go spying." Major Pfizer said. "The way he caught the other two." Ragnar and Alex Ritter looked at each other. Obviously the Hardornens had faulty information. Alex Ritter blinked his eyes slowly and nodded. Pfizer caught the gesture. "You mean they weren't?"

"No, they weren't." Ragnar said. He told the major the full story of how Rhithik used bandits and Sunsguard troopers to trap and murder Bredin and Kensie at Thanesholding then bring their bodies back to Fulda. "I was just a scout," Ragnar said, "but I owed Herald Kensie a life debt. I disobeyed orders and went to Fulda to recover their bodies. After I got back, I went to Haven as a Herald Trainee."

 _::Aren't you leaving a few details out?::_ Mikizi teased.

 _::He wouldn't believe them anyways.::_ Ragnar said.

Instead of asking how Ragnar recovered the bodies, Major Pfizer asked "How did you have a life debt to a Herald? I didn't think that was part of Valdemaran culture."

"That's because I wasn't born in Valdemar." Ragnar said. Pointing to his blooding scar, he told Major Pfizer his own story. The major listened, fascinated. To him, Lake Evendim was as mystical and far off as the Eastern Empire was to Valdemarans.

By early afternoon, they'd covered all the recent information. A Hardornen orderly brought Alex Ritter's horse to the gate to stand beside Mikizi. As the Valdemarans prepared to leave, they enjoyed a few bits of casual conversation with their host.

"What do you think of your princess marrying our prince?" Major Pfizer rested his wine cup on the wall of the terrace. Ragnar and the major looked down into the gorge, where the Rabe Fluss roared a hundred feet below, heading towards the border and carving its way ever deeper in the rock until it emerged on the Valdemaran side as the Raven River, a tributary to the Terilee. Alex Ritter stayed in his chair at the table; even the thought of approaching the edge gave him vertigo.

The two Valdemarans looked at Pfizer blankly. "What, you hadn't heard?" When they shook their heads, the major went on. "King Alessandar has proposed marrying his son Prince Ancar to your Princess Elspeth. Two of your Heralds are in Crown City right now for preliminary negotiations."

"We hadn't heard." Ragnar said. "There hasn't been a courier from Haven in three sennights." Ragnar wondered how the Hardornens got word from Crown City so quickly.

 _::They seem to have some new system that's even faster than a Companion.::_ Mikizi said _. ::We'd like to know what it is.::_

The three left the wine garden and stood outside the Drachenkopf while Alex and Ragnar tightened the girths. "A stronger alliance would be a good thing, I think." Alex Ritter said. "Maybe even a unification. That would be a good check on Karse."

"They are a problem for us." Major Pfizer said. "But they really hate you. Beyond that, I'd like to work more with you." He patted Mikizi's shoulder. "You and your white horses are a good thing." Mikizi snorted slightly.

Ragnar swung up on Mikizi, Captain Ritter mounted his warhorse. As they reached down to shake hands with Major Pfizer, Ragnar saw a troop of Hardornen cavalry galloping towards them. "I wonder what's going on?" Alex Ritter said.

 _::Chosen, we have to leave! Now!::_ Mikizi's mindvoice was urgent.

Before Ragnar could react, an officer in the lead of the approaching riders shouted. "You are under arrest! Stop them!"

"Let's go!" Captain Ritter yelled. He booted his horse into a gallop. Mikizi followed a moment later, coming up beside him. Mikizi could easily outrun the captain's horse, but merely matched its pace. Alex and Ragnar were stronger together.

"What's going on? Why are they after us?" Ragnar shouted to the captain over the wind of their passage.

"I don't know." The captain shouted back. "But I'm not going to wait around to find out."

A shower of arrows rained around them, none striking. Ragnar glanced back; the Hardornens had stopped to loose their arrows – obviously they weren't experienced horse archers. He pulled his bow from his saddle and strung it as they ran. "I'm going to distract them a little. You keep going."

Captain Ritter looked at Ragnar in surprise. "I'm not leaving you." He shouted.

"Mikizi is faster. She can catch up. Ride on!" Ragnar called back.

Captain Ritter shook his head. "No!"

"I am giving you a Herald's order! Ride on." As Herald, Ragnar outranked any officer when he chose to invoke his position.

The captain booted his horse once more, surging ahead. Seeing him go, Ragnar pulled an arrow from his quiver. As he nocked it, Mikizi slid to a halt, her back hooves digging furrows in the dirt road and turned to give Ragnar a good angle.

Ragnar shot two arrows in quick succession, one striking the neck of a grey horse ridden by the officer in the lead. The horse stumbled, sending the officer to the ground. As the other Hardornens stopped and milled for a moment around the fallen officer, Mikizi pivoted again and raced after Captain Ritter. The Hardornens began following again, now more slowly as the two Valdemarans widened the gap. Twisting in the saddle, Ragnar continued to loose arrows at the Hardornens until they were out of range. Mikizi caught up to Ritter's horse in moments and stayed beside him, stride for stride.

They lost sight of the Hardornens behind them and, after rounding a series of turns, Captain Ritter eased his horse to a light canter; Mikizi stayed beside the bay stallion. "I think Ivar can hold this pace until we reach the border. We don't stop at the guard post, we keep on going. We should be across before the guards at the post know what's going on."

Ragnar nodded. The Hardornens manned their side of the border crossing from the barracks in Rabenbrücke. If he and the captain could reach the border and flee across before the guards there knew what was happening, they should be safe. They kept to the easy lope Captain Ritter's horse could sustain. A mile from the border, Ragnar's hopes collapsed. Rounding a bend, they came face to face with a squad of Hardornen just twenty yards ahead.

"This way!" Ragnar plunged into the woods onto a game trail. Ragnar instantly regretted his choice. He and Alex Ritter were now caught in the narrow strip between the road and the river gorge. They attempted to squeeze by the Hardornen troops, who turned and loosed a flight of arrows through the trees. Ragnar felt a tug on his jacket and two more nicked Mikizi on her crest and rump. A small trickle of blood began to run down her neck. Captain Ritter's Ivar was not so fortunate: An arrow hit the warhorse in the shoulder. The stallion squealed and began limping heavily before Alex Ritter pulled it to a halt.

Ragnar saw the captain stop and Mikizi pulled up immediately. Alex Ritter drew his sword and prepared to face the Hardornens, who were crashing through the bush towards them. The captain waved his sword at Ragnar. "Go on! I'll try to hold them."

Ragnar made an instant decision. "No!" Mikizi doubled back and positioned herself beside the stallion. "Over. Behind me!" Ragnar shouted. "Mikizi can carry us both!"

Captain Ritter shook his head stubbornly. "No. Go ahead. Get away!"

Equally stubborn, Ragnar insisted. Using the 'command voice' and as much of his mindspeaking force as he could put behind his words, he ordered. "Over! Now! Move!"

Captain Ritter looked around in frustration. The Hardornens were hacking through the bush, barely ten yards away. Only the thick undergrowth prevented them peppering the Valdemarans with arrows. Alex Ritter flung himself from Ivar's back to Mikizi's, landing astride her rump behind the saddle. Mikizi launched herself into a gallop and the captain wrapped his arms around Ragnar to stay in place.

Even doubly burdened, Mikizi's gallop was faster than any horse's and they skirted past the Hardornens and back onto the road well out of range of enemy arrows.

"What now?" Alex Ritter shouted in Ragnar's ear. "The border guard is obviously alert. We're running straight into their position." The canyon walls were narrowing, trapping them between the river and a wall of rock.

Ragnar made a decision. He had scouted the area previously when he and Hardornen troops conducted patrols against smugglers and Karsite infiltrators. It was hellish dangerous, but Ragnar could see no alternative.

Mikizi followed his thought. _::I agree.::_ She said. _::Trust me on this one, Chosen. I can do it.::_

"Hang on!" Ragnar shouted. "And close your eyes!"

Barely two hundred yards from the border, the gorge narrowed to the 'Devil's Pinch' – a point where the river thundered through a crack barely twenty feet wide. Ahead, Ragnar could see the Hardornen border guards preparing to block them. Captain Ritter raised his sword, preparing to help fight their way through. On the far side of the border, they could see Valdemaran troops rushing forward to assist, only to fall back under a hail of Hardornen arrows.

"Hang on! Both arms!" Ragnar ordered as Mikizi swerved off the road and gathered speed towards the gorge. Astonished and terrified, Captain dropped his sword and held on to Ragnar with all his strength.

At full speed, Mikizi reached the lip of the canyon and launched herself over the river, which roared like a thousand furies three hundred feet below. Captain Ritter fought his fear down so not to distract either Ragnar or Mikizi as they soared over the raging current. On the road, Hardornens and Valdemarans alike stood in slack-jawed silence to watch the death-defying leap.

Mikizi aimed well. Her forefeet hit a soft patch of ground on the other side and her hindquarters tucked to land her hind feet ahead of the forefeet. Lifting her forehand again, she pushed ahead with her hind legs and scramble up to the narrow smugglers' trail that snaked along the southwest wall of the canyon.

The astonished onlookers, both Hardornen and Valdemaran, dropped their weapons to cheer and applaud the amazing escape. On the narrow track, scarcely wide enough for a small donkey, Mikizi continued to canter towards Valdemar. As they came even with the Hardornen guardpost, several Hardornens raised their bows to pick off Ragnar and Captain Ritter, but their fellows would not have it and smacked the bows down.

Once beyond Hardornen bowshot, Mikizi slowed to a walk, continuing along the path towards Raven's Gorge, where they would be able to cross to safety. Captain Ritter fixed his eyes on the back of Ragnar's head, certain he would lose his lunch if he looked down. "At least I didn't piss myself." He said, trying to lighten the mood. Mikizi snorted.

"Mikizi thanks you for that." Ragnar grinned at the captain's grim humor, knowing Alex Ritter was fighting his fear of heights. Now that they were – relatively – safe, he asked. "What was all that about, anyways? Why are we suddenly at war with Hardorn?" The question was rhetorical; he knew the Captain had no more idea than he did.

Alex Ritter bit his lip and pondered the matter, if only to distract himself from the roiling torrent below. "Major Pfizer mentioned negotiations for marrying Princess Elspeth to Prince Ancar. I wonder if it had something to do with that?"

"Something could have gone wrong. What could two Heralds do to cause a war?" Ragnar said.

"Get caught spying?" The captain suggested. Even to him, the suggestion seemed ridiculous. "Who would the Queen send?"

Ragnar thought for a moment. "For something like a marriage alliance, it would be one of the Heralds on the Council, like Kyril. Possibly the Queen's Own – she just finished her internship – and a highborn Herald who's a good fighter to act as bodyguard – someone like Coroc. But that still begs the question of how they would provoke a war."

"Could they be doing something covert on the side?" Alex Ritter persisted.

Ragnar snorted. "It would have to be something pretty drastic, like assassinating King Alessandar. Why would they do that? We've been at peace with Hardorn for centuries. Besides, if the Queen wanted to do that, she'd send someone who was good at sneaking around."

"Like you?" The captain teased his friend.

Ragnar snorted. "Yes." Mentally, he added _'Or Skif or Tom.'_ Even for his spymaster friend, Ragnar was not going to identify the specialist 'agents' among the Heralds.

"Ho! Herald!" A voice called. Ragnar looked ahead to the tiny outpost that guarded the pass. Carved into solid rock, it could barely fit two men, who had full view of the path for one hundred yards ahead. Invulnerable to assault, the occupants could pick off any attackers, who would be forced to approach and go around it single file.

"Hello the guardpost!" Ragnar called back. "Herald Ragnar Einarson and Captain Alex Ritter coming through!" Due to the difficulty of manning and supplying it, the outpost was usually unmanned. Major Mazur must have sent men to it when fighting broke out on the main road.

Ragnar could see an eye at one of the arrow-slits. Gloved fingers poked through and waved them on. "Pass, Herald! We got warning you were coming."

Mikizi walked carefully around the side of the outpost. To Alex Ritter's relief, the trail turned away from the cliff and broadened. He could see Ravens Gorge only half a mile ahead. Ragnar and the captain waved to the two smiling guardsmen and continued on to the town.

###

"We don't know what the hell happened." Major Mazur said to Ragnar and Alex Ritter. After seeing to Mikizi's tiny cut and grooming her, the two went to the Major's office, looking for an explanation. "All I know is that they suddenly shut the border on their side and started turning every Valdemaran away. When Lieutenant Seabury went to ask why, they shot a warning arrow at her and told her to get back.

"A while later, a squad of them started heading back towards Rabenbrücke at the double. Then you two showed up like the devil was after you." He looked at Ragnar. "That leap of yours is going to become a local legend, by the way."

Mikizi snorted in Ragnar's mind and he grinned at the major. "She said she could do it and I trust her. Besides, the gap was only twenty feet. I measured it when I was scouting last fall."

The major snorted in turn. "A normal horse can barely manage twelve feet. And that's not carrying double. Doesn't matter anyways. My men are already saying fifty feet and the distance is growing with every telling." Mikizi snorted again.

"So, we appear to be at war with Hardorn." The major said. "I wish someone would tell me why. In the meantime, I've reinforced the border post and we'll have someone at the smuggler's trail guard post day and night. We'll send out patrols to watch for infiltrators."

###

Four nights later, they got a partial answer. Privates Ron Dewar and Mitch Behn were patrolling the road between the town and the border when a shower of rocks and dirt pelted down around them. They looked up to see Hardornen soldiers lowering themselves down the rockface on ropes. The moonlight showed the invaders clearly to the two privates, though the curve of the gorge hid the spot from the border post and the town. Private Dewar sprinted towards Ravens Gorge while Behn ran towards the border.

By the time the Hardornens got down to the road, guardsmen from the town and the border were in position.

"Take them!" Major Mazur ordered. The moonlight did not touch the road, so the Valdemarans shone lanterns at the attackers. Trapped between two forces, the Hardornens had no chance. The fight was short and bloody. Several Hardornens fell into the gorge, their screams drowned out by the roar of the river as they plunged into the water and were swept away. Their position hopeless, a half-dozen threw down their swords and surrendered amid their own dead and wounded.

Major Mazur left a guard detail for the prisoners and hurried ahead to the border post, where the guardsmen were fighting a frontal assault from the Hardornen side. Ragnar went with him. Seeing the Valdemaran reinforcements, the Hardornens broke off and retreated to their own border station.

Order restored, the Valdemarans turned to their prisoners. The Hardornens poured out their grievances, even without Ragnar's Truth Spell. Valdemar, they said, had murdered King Alessandar, his Queen and his Court. Heralds had done it, provoking a war.

The allegations stunned the Valdemarans, Ragnar most of all. "Impossible!" He exclaimed. He saw Alex Ritter look at him oddly and remembered his words just days before, suggesting an assassination as a cause of war. "No!" Ragnar shouted at his friend. "It's just impossible!"

"You said it could be done…." The captain said cautiously.

"In theory, yes. But there is absolutely no reason why we would." Ragnar said. "We have nothing to gain and everything to lose. It's unthinkable."

 _::We'd never let you.::_ Mikizi added.

Under the Truth Spell, the Hardornens maintained their story, though they admitted they knew only what their officers told them. Work had come from Crown City itself, they said.

Disbelieving, Ragnar and the guard officers debated the story until, a candlemark after sunrise, a Hardornen delegation approached under a parley flag, asking for a truce to recover their dead and wounded in the space between the two border posts. Major Mazur readily agreed and asked for a further meeting with Major Pfizer at noon.

###

The two sides met halfway between the border posts. Ragnar and Captain Ritter accompanied Major Mazur as he met with Major Pfizer and two of his officers. The Hardornen officers glared at Ragnar, their faces full of hate.

After the formal introductions, Major Mazur began by returning the dead and seriously wounded Hardornen soldiers, including three whose bodies washed up downstream. He also gave Major Pfizer a list of the prisoners. Major Pfizer demanded return of the prisoners; Major Mazur refused. There were also several men unaccounted for – their bodies were presumably in the river or the gorge.

The six stood impassively while Valdemaran guardsmen brought the dead and wounded to the meeting point, where Hardornen soldiers claimed them and took them home.

"Now." Major Mazur began. He spoke in Hardornen. "Why did you attack us? The prisoners gave us a story of assassination and murder. They say our Heralds did it. That is not possible."

Major Pfizer replied stone-faced. "Whether you think it possible or not, it happened. King Alessandar and his Court are dead. Prince Ancar – now King Ancar – barely escaped with his life. He has vowed revenge for this atrocity."

"There is no reason we would do that." Major Mazur protested. "Why would we attack Hardorn? There must be a mistake."

"Conquest is its own reason." The Hardornen said. His face showed contempt. "There is no mistake. We have word directly from Crown City."

Ragnar couldn't accept Major Pfizer's words. "How could two Heralds murder the entire Royal Court of Hardorn?"

"I do not know. I do not know what cursed powers you have." Major Pfizer snapped back. "The fact is that they are dead. My father and mother among them." He spat at Ragnar's feet.

There was a long, awkward pause. Finally, Major Mazur spoke. "I am sorry for your loss and for Hardorn's loss. I do not know how what you say is possible. Believe me when I say I will seek answers."

The two sides saluted each other and returned to their own posts.

###

Two nights later, at the full moon, a deeply troubled Ragnar sought his own answers. Of late, his castings showed danger rising in the east and reaching out, even encompassing the black stone. There was a rising evil in the heart of Valdemar as well, linked to the others in the east and south. Could Major Pfizer's accusations be true? Had the rulers of Valdemar turned evil? Ragnar had to know.

He found a place of power, this one in Ravens Gorge. Unsurprisingly, it was in the grounds of a Temple – in the garden of the Temple of the One. The keepers of the Temple had no objection to Ragnar using the spot – in their eyes, the Eagle was just another of the manifestations of the One – so Ragnar made his casting circle where his spirit sense told him was the center. Ayawin shone brightly, illuminating the garden in ghostly light. The sky was mostly clear, a few small clouds drifted among the stars and Ragnar could see the Eye of the Eagle clearly.

As usual, Mikizi took her position in the east. Captain Ritter and the keeper of the Temple watched respectfully from the portico surrounding the garden. Ragnar prayed and meditated, stilling the turmoil of his thoughts, still agitated by the Hardornen accusations.

Midnight arrived and Ragnar felt the otherworldly presence; he cast the stones. Opening his eyes, the Eagle manifested in brilliant light, its eyes boring into his. The apparition changed to the form of the Windrider before resuming the form of the Eagle and slowly vanishing, leaving behind a sense of reassurance.

Ragnar looked down at the stones. To the east, he sensed evil – a nauseating presence of blood and black spreading out from a place of death. It reached out to the black stone: There was a convergence happening, of dark purposes working together. Behind the eastern peril, a greater menace lurked, manipulating the evils for its own purposes.

In the west, Ragnar once again saw a destiny unfolding. His castings over the years told him a great task lay years ahead. The Jyarakstorm was coming and he must stand in the midst of it.

Ragnar looked towards the center and smiled to himself. The evil that haunted Valdemar was gone, as though stabbed through the heart. He bowed his head and gathered the stones in his hands.


	25. Chapter 25 - Strange Bedfellows

Chapter 25 – Strange Bedfellows

 _"Never hate your enemies. It affects your judgment." – Mario Puzo_

Ten days after Ragnar cast the stones, better answers came from Rabenbrücke and from Haven.

Two candlemarks after sunrise, Private Ilse Taplin galloped in from the border post to report a column of Hardornens approaching the border. Taking no chances, Major Mazur immediately ordered the full garrison to form up and head for the border before getting the details from the Private. "What does Lieutenant Seabury think?" He asked as he mounted his own horse and rode out the gate beside the private. Ragnar and Mikizi were on his other side. The staff officers rode just behind the major while the others rode or marched with their troops.

"She's puzzled, Sir." Private Taplin replied. "The column appears to be in marching order instead of battle order and she thought she saw women and children – civilians – in the middle of it." Major Mazur's eyebrows shot up. The Hardornen Army was all male – to them, a woman in uniform was unthinkable. Nor would 'camp followers' be part of the marching order.

They arrived at the border before the Hardornens came up the other side. Major Mazur and his officers dismounted on the Valdemar side to watch the Hardornens approach. As Private Taplin said, the Hardornens were in marching order with the officers at the front. There also women and children in the middle of the column. Captain Ritter muttered "Ivar" as he recognized his war stallion being led by a junior officer behind Major Pfizer.

Wary of trickery, Lieutenant Seabury ordered a double line of guardsmen between the Valdemaran officers and the gate.

The Hardornens, with Major Pfizer in the lead, dismounted and approached the gate on their side carrying a parley flag. Major Pfizer nodded at the gatesman, who raised the barrier. The Major looked to the Valdemaran side, waiting for a response.

Major Mazur looked at Ragnar and Captain Ritter. "Let's go." The three stepped in front of the line as the Valdemaran gate rose and they raised their own parley flag.

The three marched forward slowly as Major Pfizer and two subordinates approached from the other side. The two sides stopped five feet apart and saluted each other.

"Major Pfizer." Mazur said cautiously.

"Major Mazur." The Hardornen said. "I come with an apology. And a plea."

Anton Mazur quirked an eyebrow at his counterpart, waiting for him to go on.

Pfizer sighed. "We were lied to. Your Heralds did not murder our King. King Alessandar and his Court were massacred on the orders of his own son, Prince Ancar, who has now usurped the throne. He tried to throw the blame on Valdemar and use that as a pretext to conquer your land."

The news rocked Major Mazur. "How do you know this? A fortnight ago, you attacked us because you believed our Heralds killed your king. Why this change of mind?"

Major Pfizer turned and waved to the Hardornen line, which parted to reveal a richly dressed boy with the device of a rearing red horse on his surcoat. The boy walked quickly forward to stand beside Major Pfizer, who placed a hand on his shoulder. "May I present my nephew, Junker Leon Pfizer – I suppose he is Freiherr Leon Pfizer now – who brought word from my brother telling the truth of what happened in Crown City."

Major Pfizer went on, telling how his brother learned the truth of the massacre in the Royal Court. Ancar's spies found out Paulus Pfizer was preparing to flee and sent thugs to murder Josef's brother and family. With the help of a loyal bodyguard, Leon and his sister escaped through a back gate while his father stayed to buy time. Riding his own father's warhorse, Leon, his sister and the bodyguard arrived at Rabenbrücke a half day before word came from Crown City saying Paulus Pfizer had been executed for 'treason' and ordering the arrest of Josef. Almost simultaneously, a stream of other officers and nobles fleeing the usurper brought word confirming the letter Leon carried. The officers and men of Rabenbrücke declared their loyalty to Major Pfizer.

"And so I apologize." Major Pfizer said. "We attacked you based on a lie and I am sorry for it." He offered his hand.

Shaken by the news, Anton Mazur shook his counterpart's hand. "I accept your apology. I am sure you will understand if I and my command are rather stunned by your news. You said you had a plea. May I ask what it is?" Major Mazur already an idea.

The Hardornen held up a hand. "First, a token of reconciliation." He turned towards the Hardornen side to wave once more. This time, the young officer led Captain Ritter's stallion forward. The officer carried a cloth-wrapped sword in his other hand.

Major Pfizer took the sword and handed it to Captain Ritter. "I return your sword to you, which you lost while fleeing an unjust arrest." He took the horse's reins and handed them to the captain as well. "Also, your brave horse, who was injured by our arrows. Our horse-leech says his wound needs another fortnight to heal." He pointed to the fine lambs-wool blue saddle pad, trimmed with silver. "We have added a saddle pad in Valdemaran colors and there is wool barding in the pack behind the pommel as our personal apology."

Captain Ritter thanked Major Pfizer and shook his hand.

Another officer came forward, carrying a bundle. Undoing the binding strap, Major Pfizer opened it to reveal a magnificent blue silk barding, trimmed in silver with the Windrider sigil embroidered at the shoulder on both sides. "And this is for Herald Ragnar as our apology to him as well and in admiration of the incredible leap your horse made across the gorge. That will be a legend in this County for generations to come."

 _::It's magnificent.::_ Mikizi commented. _::The others will all be jealous. For that, I can forgive them calling me a horse. Thank him for me.::_

"Mikizi thanks you for the gift." Ragnar said. The Hardornens gave him strange looks.

Major Pfizer blinked and cleared his throat. "Yes, well, my plea – our plea – is for sanctuary. Ancar is eradicating all who are not loyal to him – or he suspects are not loyal. He is going after anyone who might challenge him. Even their wives and children are not safe: He has massacred entire families. For our own safety, I and many of my officers and men have chosen to flee. Will you allow us refuge?"

Major Mazur glanced at Ragnar and Alex Ritter. Both nodded. He turned back to the Hardornens. "Valdemar has accepted many fleeing persecution over the centuries. So long as you do us no harm, you are welcome."

All the Hardornen officers visibly relaxed. "Thank you." Josef Pfizer said.

Mazur nodded. "We will require your oaths you will not betray our trust. For you and your officers, Herald Ragnar will take your oaths. He will know if you swear falsely."

The Hardornens' gaze flicked briefly to Ragnar. They swallowed nervously. Ragnar wondered what tales they told about Heralds in Hardorn.

 _::Oh, the usual things. Babies for breakfast. Sucking blood. Making saddle-leather from their skins.::_ Mikizi snickered. Ragnar repressed a laugh.

"That is acceptable." Major Pfizer said.

All present shook hands. It would take too long to administer the oaths at the border, so they agreed to bring the Hardornens to Ravens Gorge first. Major Mazur allowed them to keep their swords but they had to close the rain flaps over the guards; those with spears would cover the tips with cloth. The Valdemarans would make room for the Hardornens to pass with the Valdemarans nearest the mountain and the Hardornens nearest the gorge.

It took three candlemarks for the Hardornens to march to Raven's Gorge and make camp beside the town. The women and children proved to be the wives and families of the officers along with the lemans of some of the enlisted men, who were not permitted to marry.

In the afternoon, all the soldiers from both sides paraded outside the walls of Ravens Gorge to hear the Hardornens give their oaths to not harm Valdemar or its people; there was no requirement to serve. In front of everybody, Ragnar took the officers' oaths under the Truth Spell. He demonstrated it on Alex Ritter. The blue aura frightened the Hardornens at first, but they saw it did not harm the captain. Everyone laughed when Alex swore he was a virgin and the glow vanished. Major Pfizer stepped forward and took the oath first; he swore without hesitation. Following his example, the other officers braced themselves and gave their oaths. Afterwards, the Valdemaran officers, accompanied by their Hardornen counterparts, took the oaths of the common soldiers.

###

Late in the afternoon, three Heralds cantered into Ravens Grove. Mikizi warned Ragnar of their approach, so he met them a mile from the town to brief them about the Hardornen refugees.

Herald Courier Tobias brought grim confirmation of Major Pfizer's news. Queen's Own Herald Talia and Herald Kris went to Crown City and were there when Ancar staged his coup. They tried to flee, but Ancar's thugs killed Kris and Tantris and took Talia prisoner. Rolan escaped, bringing warning from Talia. Dirk and Elspeth somehow managed to rescue Talia, who was now recuperating from her tortures. Talia unmasked Orthallen, who Elspeth killed with her own dagger. At the 'Battle of the Demons', Herald Griffon's firestarting Gift saved the day. As in Ravens Gorge, many Hardornens defected to Valdemar.

Ragnar's yearmate Pike and his intern Katie came with Tobias. They heard of the battle of Raven Gorge and decided they were more needed at the border than on their circuit.

The four Heralds dined with the officers from both armies that evening. The Hardornens were extremely circumspect and avoided all discussions about military matters. Their hosts respected the Hardornens' discretion, understanding the refugees did not wish to harm their homeland even though they could not support its new ruler. From a few items the Hardornens dropped and the absence of several officers Alex Ritter knew, the captain deduced about half of the garrison at Rabenbrücke remained behind, deeming their loyalty to their homeland more important than who sat on its throne.

###

Three days later, a small column of Hardornens approached the border. As before Major Mazur, accompanied by Ragnar and Captain Ritter, met them between the two guard-posts.

"We demand the return of the traitor Josef Pfizer and his faithless men." The leader began without preamble, speaking in Hardornen.

Major Mazur eyed the Hardornen, a pudgy, thuggish-looking man in an ill-fitting Oberst's uniform. "I am Major Mazur of the Valdemaran Guard. To whom do I have the honor of speaking?" He replied in the same language, keeping his tone pleasant even though the Hardornen stirred a visceral dislike.

"I am Oberst Hans Winkler, a loyal officer of His Majesty King Ancar. I demand you return the traitors." The Hardornen said.

All three Valdemarans blinked at Oberst Winkler's peremptory manner, which was far different from the usual courtesy they expected of Hardornen officers. Alex Ritter thought he detected the accent of Crown City gutter cant.

"I am afraid that is impossible, Oberst Winkler." Major Mazur said. "Major Pfizer, his officers and the men with him have asked for and received asylum in Valdemar. In normal times, your ambassador could petition their return to face charges for specific crimes. However, we are now at war, so no return is possible. Further, your ambassador in Haven has also sought asylum."

Oberst Winkler grew visibly redder with each word Major Mazur spoke. "I see the stinking traitor Pfizer sitting there among you!" He pointed where Josef Pfizer and three of his officers sat their horses behind the Valdemaran troops. "If you slaves do not return him immediately, we will crush you and take them ourselves."

Alex Ritter's eyebrows shot up. 'Slave' was the worst insult in Hardorn, often provoking instant death-fights. Only the crudest, most vulgar person would use it.

Major Mazur didn't blink. "It appears this discussion is at an end." He turned and headed back to the Valdemaran side. Ragnar and the Captain followed.

"You filthy pig!" Now Winkler's gutter accent was plain. "I'll kill you." He snatched his dagger and threw it at Major Mazur's back. Herald Katie, alert for any treachery, batted the dagger aside and sent it spinning into the gorge.

There was an instant uproar on both sides. Both groups of officers sprinted for their respective guard-posts, dodging a hail of missiles. Other than a tear in Ragnar's Whites, the Valdemarans were untouched.

Major Mazur ordered his men to cease shooting; a few moments later, the Hardornens did the same and pulled back out of range.

The officers returned to Ravens Gorge. Major Pfizer and his aides swore profusely about the 'low-born scum Winkler.' He personally apologized to Major Mazur on behalf of the 'decent people' of Hardorn.

Ragnar fingered the hole in his sleeve. "They told me 'Herald' meant 'target.'" The surrounding officers and men laughed at the old joke, mostly to relieve their own tension.

###

From battle experience and their estimate of Oberst Winkler, Major Mazur and Captain Ritter both thought the Hardornens would try something within a few days, so Herald Tobias delayed his return to Haven. Major Pfizer said he could not directly help the Valdemarans, but pointedly said he did not trust the 'Oberst' – his tone made the rank into a contemptuous epithet.

With three other Heralds available, Ragnar decided he needed to do some scouting. His original plan was to slip over the mountain on the southwest side of the canyon with Katie using her farsight to check the highland meadows before he crossed in the open. Ragnar would communicate back through Pike, who could reach other Heralds thirty miles away with his farspeech. They rose to go candlemarks before dawn, but circumstances changed just as they were about to leave the post.

At the border crossing, Sergeant Spears and his men heard shouting and disturbance on the Hardornen side ending with a prolonged scream. The scream echoed and faded into the depths of the canyon. A sunwidth later, the entire Hardornen squad approached the Valdemaran side, waving lanterns and parley flags and crying 'Peace! Peace!' in badly pronounced Valdemaran.

By gesture and a limited knowledge of the two languages on each side, the Hardornens told the wary Valdemarans they were defecting. Disgusted and enraged by the sadistic 'leutnant' set over them by Oberst Winkler, the Hardornen border guard pitched the offending officer into the gorge and defected en masse. Sergeant Spears sent a galloper to Ravens Gorge with the news there was no guard on the Hardornen side.

Seeing an opportunity, Ragnar and Katie headed to the border crossing. Katie's farsight confirmed there were no Hardornen soldiers within a mile of the border post. Ragnar slipped across in the darkness and disappeared into the Hardornen forest east of the road.

###

 _::I wish there was a way to dye your coat.::_ Ragnar said. He wore a scout's mottled brown and grey outfit instead of his Heralds' Whites.

 _::It's been tried. It doesn't work.::_ Mikizi said. _::Besides, I know how to keep out of sight. You should know that by now.::_

Though he and Mikizi had been on many covert missions since Ragnar got his Whites, he still could not shake his concern about her conspicuous color. Leaving her to find the path in the darkness, he distracted himself by opening his mindshields, 'listening' for stray thoughts that might reveal others nearby.

He found someone: An entire family huddling in a small clearing. Wondering what could bring them out into the forest at night, Ragnar probed deeper. They were fleeing, trying to get to Valdemar. Oberst Winkler was conscripting the young men of Rabenbrücke and the nearby farms into the army. Worse, the thugs who came with Oberst Winkler were kidnapping and raping young women and girls with impunity. To save their children, the family abandoned their home and headed for the border. From what he learned, Ragnar began to hate Oberst Winkler.

Ragnar reached out to Pike, telling his yearmate about the refugees.

 _::Got it.::_ Pike said. _::Katie says she can just see them. We'll get them out.::_ Ragnar turned his attention back to his own job. With no one on the border on the Hardornen side, Pike and Katie could dash across the border and help the family safely into Valdemar before the new guard arrived at dawn.


	26. Chapter 26 - The Battle of Katie

Chapter 26 – The Battle of Katie

 _ ***WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE***_

" _The bad man desires arbitrary power. What moves the evil man is the love of injustice." - John Rawls_

By noon, Ragnar made it to a hill five miles east of Rabenbrücke. Too far away to make out any details, he could see a large new camp on the barracks side of the town. Ragnar wondered if the new troops came from Crown City or were local conscripts. Even with his spyglass, the soldiers were little more than dots on the ground, but the formations they made seemed ragged and the lines too irregular for trained troops.

Ragnar stayed in position the rest of the day, keeping a watch. He could see a barn a few hundred yards from the town. It was on a slight rise and would give him a good view of the barracks and camp. He watched it closely to see if anyone was using it, but the barn and the nearby farmhouse showed no activity. He decided he would try to sneak in that night.

In the meantime, Ragnar watched the town and the movement of the people. He noticed the streets seemed much quieter than a few sennights ago. Three times he saw troops of soldiers on the roads leading to the camp. One of the troops passed on the road below the hill. With his spyglass, he could see a score of young men – hardly more than boys – roped together in a coffle in the midst of the troop. Armed men marched beside and behind the young men, roughly urging them on. Two officers on horseback led the troop. Just below Ragnar's viewpoint, one of the officers rode back to whip the captives. Ragnar could not make out the words, but it was clear the officer was cursing them and ordering them to move faster. Ragnar raised his eyebrows: This was not the Hardornen army whose mess he'd sometimes shared. Other than the relief squads heading out towards the border, there was very little activity.

The moon was new, setting just after the sun. Ragnar felt Pike's farspeech reaching out; silently he told his fellow Herald what he had seen; Pike said the family he'd rescued and a few other refugees escaping into Valdemar claimed that the Hardornen army was rounding up all the young men in the area and pressing them into service. It looked like the Hardornens were preparing an attack. Pike passed on Major Mazur's request for any information and for Ragnar to continue his mission until the Hardornens prepared to move.

Ragnar waited until the lights in the town and camp went out before cautiously making his way to the barn. Barely a hundred yards from it, he detected movement and could hear soft voices. Mikizi silently moved into a copse of trees while Ragnar watched. He reached out with his mind, 'listening' to the thoughts behind the spoken words.

' _Murdering scum.'_ One said. _'The lot of 'em ought to be hanged.'_

' _Shut up. They'll hang you if they hear you say that.'_ Another replied. ' _Door's off the hinge, lift it out.'_

Ragnar heard scraping sounds and a tiny light shone inside the house.

' _Keep that light down! We can't be seen. Ah, here's_ _Máté_ _, they beat him to death. And the littles – oh Gods, I think I'm going to be sick!'_ A third voice spoke.

' _Keep your voice down!'_ The second one ordered once more. _'And here's Anna. Looks like they raped her and strangled her.'_

Ragnar blinked back tears, but forced himself to keep listening. The people in the house were neighbors, come to bury their friends. The day before, Máté and Anna Hrothy resisted the troopers who came to take their teenage daughters as pleasure slaves and impress their fifteen year old son into the army. Winkler's thugs murdered the couple along with their children under twelve, taking the son and daughters back to the camp with them. Ragnar kept watch until the neighbors finished the grim task of burying their friends. After a brief prayer, the neighbors quietly made their way home.

Ragnar waited another candlemark before he and Mikizi slipped into the barn, which was empty of livestock. Even the hayloft was nearly empty; it appeared the looters had taken the grain and fodder as well. He removed Mikizi's tack, hanging it close by in case they had to flee. Cautiously, he slipped out to the well, filling his water pouch and bringing buckets for Mikizi. Mikizi found some spilled grain and a few flakes of hay left by the looters while Ragnar chewed some hardtack and waybread. They spread some straw and both lay down for a few candlemarks' sleep.

They woke before first light and prepared to spend the day inside the barn. By first light, Ragnar was in the loft to watch the town and camp. He saw the dawn parade. He could see the experienced soldiers around the outside of the formation and a large number of obviously new recruits in the middle; the latter were unarmed. After an 'inspection' that included several savage beatings of the recruits, they lined up for their breakfast. Many of the recruits seemed to find the food unappetizing; instead of beating the ones reluctant to eat, the trainers took the food away and sent them to stand in the parade ground.

 _::They're counting on starvation to force them to eat.::_ Mikizi observed.

Ragnar agreed and kept watching. After breakfast, the trainers began drilling the recruits. There were more savage beatings for what Ragnar thought were minor offences. Turning his attention from the drill, he noticed a few parties forming up, each with a couple of officers and a troop of men. Ragnar thought he recognized the officer of one party from the group he'd seen close up the day before. The parties marched out in different directions.

Ragnar surveyed the camp closely. Including the conscripts, he estimated there were two thousand men. A sudden commotion bought his attention back to the trainees. Armed men surrounded one section as trainers wrestled a young man to the ground. They stripped his shirt and dragged him to a whipping post. Ragnar's jaw dropped. Where the guard post once had one whipping post, there were now ten. While the trainers chained their prisoner to the post, armed men drove the rest of the squad of recruits to watch. Even from four hundred yards away, he could hear the young man scream as the whip struck, tearing a bloody strip from his back. The whipping continued: Ten strokes, Twenty strokes, at thirty strokes, Ragnar looked away. The whipping went on until the young man hung lifeless on the post, literally flayed to the bone. Ragnar felt bile rising in his throat and deliberately focused on other parts of the camp.

Just before noon, travellers approached the south side of the bridge that gave the town its name. Ragnar aimed his spyglass at the newcomers. The first thing that caught his attention was the turban and sash of the Sunlancer, then his hair rose as he recognized the Red Robe and Sundisk of a Karsite priest in the middle. A third man's surcoat bore the device of Baron Kruków, the lord of Kruk Góra, which Ragnar recognized from drawings Alex Ritter had shown him; the device did not bear the coronet, so the man was one of the baron's retinue, not the baron himself.

As the Karsites approached the camp, Oberst Winkler emerged from the headquarters along with his officers. At Winkler's side, Ragnar saw a man in a black and red robe with heavy gold embroidery; the robe was like a scholar's or priests. Ragnar's spirit sense revolted at the robed man, who reminded him of the 'wrongness' he'd felt when he ventured into Karse. After a brief greeting ceremony, both sides went into the building.

After his pre-arranged contact with Pike at noon, Ragnar continued to watch the headquarters. After nearly a candlemark, three companies of soldiers formed up in front of the building. Ragnar focused his spyglass on the troops; half of them appeared to be very young and nervous and the rest looked like street thugs. All of the non-coms in charge of them were in the latter group; they did not resemble the kaprals and feldwebels Ragnar knew.

Oberst Winkler and the three Karsites emerged from the headquarters along with several junior officers and the mysterious robed 'scholar.' Oberst Winkler, accompanied by the sunlancer and the baronial aide, inspected the men. As they walked the lines, Ragnar saw the two Karsites exchange looks of incredulity and contempt mixed with resignation. Off to the side, Ragnar saw the sunpriest and the 'scholar' talking to one another with great interest.

The inspection done, the two sides shook hands. The three Karsites mounted their horses and moved out with the Hardornen companies following behind. They crossed the bridge and headed south towards Karse.

In the middle of the afternoon, two more companies formed up and headed out the north road and another squad took the road towards the border. The group heading to the border was much larger than usual and had two wagons with them.

Other than the press gangs returning with new conscripts, nothing further happened for the rest of the day. Ragnar waited in the barn, preparing to leave after dark and his scheduled contact with Pike.

Pike's contact came with the moonset and Ragnar passed along all that he had seen that day.

 _::General Chase is here.::_ Pike said. _::Hold on.::_ Ragnar waited while Pike passed on the information to the general and her officers.

Pike said. _::We saw that party arrive at the border in the afternoon. They built something at that point where you jumped the gorge – it looks like some kind of altar. The general thinks they are planning an attack within the next day or two. She wants you to get into position to scout their rear.::_

Ragnar nodded mentally. _::What about that group headed towards Karse?::_ He asked. _::And the smaller group headed north?::_

There was another pause. _::General Chase thinks they are going to try something through Karse.::_ Pike paused again. _::Major Pfizer just reminded us that Hierophant Rhithik is in_ _Kruk_ _Góra. He thinks Rhithik may be trying something on his own.::_

Ragnar wondered what the Hardornen major was doing in the middle of the briefing. Pike caught Ragnar's surprise. _::Major Pfizer wanted to know what was happening to his people. General Chase thought it was a good idea to let him listen in.::_

 _::What about the troops going north?::_ Ragnar asked. _::They could be trying for the pass above the gorge, but why leave so early?::_ Ragnar knew the area. If the Hardornens were going to use the pass to flank the Valdemarans, they would only need to move a candlemark before the main body.

 _::We've had a small defensive force up there continuously.::_ Pike said. _::They haven't seen anyone.::_ Another pause. _::Nobody here has any idea what those troops are doing.::_

After a bit more discussion, Pike told Ragnar to expect a contact at first light every day until Oberst Winkler made his move.

It was now full dark. Ragnar and Mikizi left the barn and farmstead, heading directly for the town. Rabenbrücke was not a walled town and the streets opened directly to the fields. Mikizi would have no trouble moving in the darkness between the buildings, although she did not like the canvas rags tied to her feet to muffle the normal chiming of her hooves. They counted on darkness and boldness to disguise themselves: Anyone who saw the shape of a 'rider' and 'horse' going through the middle of the town in the dark would assume it was one of Oberst Winkler's officers. Nevertheless, Ragnar opened his mindshield, 'listening' for anyone who might notice them. As they moved through the streets, he sensed nothing but people sleeping.

The riskiest part of the foray through the town was crossing the bridge; if it was guarded, they would have to go back and swing south to ford the Rabe Fluss above the gorge, adding twenty miles to their journey. Keeping to the back streets, they made their way to the side street meeting the main road nearest the bridge and paused. Ragnar scanned the main road and the bridge with his mindspeech; he sensed no one. Ragnar grinned: The Hardornens assumed no enemy would be mad enough to use a bridge in the middle of the town for a clandestine crossing of the gorge.

 _::But Heralds are a little mad.::_ Mikizi's mindvoice carried a chuckle.

Boldly they moved into the middle of the main road, crossing the bridge openly, acting as though they had every right to be there. Only when he glanced back did Ragnar notice something wrong: The Drachenkopf was silent and so were the other taverns. On any normal night, there would be some soldiers and villagers enjoying themselves.

 _::They're preparing to move.::_ Mikizi reached the same conclusion. _::Winkler wants his men ready to move out early. He also doesn't want to risk anyone blurting out the plan while in their cups.::_

Ragnar agreed. _::Winkler isn't a master of deception though. The change itself shows something is up. If he were really clever, he would have picked, trusted men visiting the taverns to make things seem normal.::_

 _::You're assuming he has anyone he trusts.::_ Mikizi said slyly.

They crossed the bridge without incident, not meeting another soul as they entered the dark backstreets on the other side and left the town. As soon as they made it into the woods, Mikizi stopped, refusing to move until Ragnar removed 'those unprintable rags' from her feet.

###

As a scout Ragnar learned to wake at any time necessary, so he was ready when Pike's farspeech touched his mind at first light. They had barely acknowledged one another when Ragnar heard the sounds of bugles and drums from the Hardornen camp.

 _::I think that means they're coming today.::_ Ragnar said to Pike as the latter 'heard' the wake-up call echo in Ragnar's mindspeech.

 _::We'll be ready. In the meantime, General Chase wants me to check with you every candlemark.::_ Pike said.

Ragnar moved to his chosen lookout. It was still too dark to make out details, but he could see the lights of lanterns moving about the camp. Ragnar watched patiently. By the sound, he could tell at least one body of troops moved out in the near darkness; the road would be just discernable in the pre-dawn light. Another, larger group left a quarter candlemark later – Ragnar could see the thin snake of troops marching towards the border with officers on horseback moving up and down the line. A third of the way along the column, there was a cluster of mounted men, presumably Oberst Winkler and his staff. Just behind them there was a wagon with men riding in it. In the dim light, Ragnar couldn't be sure, but it seemed the men in the wagon were naked or nearly so. In the meantime, he could see the group that left earlier climbing the switchbacks leading to the upper pass.

Deciding there was nothing further he could learn from this spot, Ragnar and Mikizi moved on towards their next vantage point, which would give them a view of the border – and the prospective battle – from the Hardornen side. Pike contacted him while Mikizi picked her way along the trail, sometimes making rough detours to avoid places where they might be seen. Ragnar gave Pike the rough numbers of the Hardornens plus the unusual details he'd noted. Pike told Ragnar that Tobias was with Lieutenant Halmar on the upper pass while he and Katie were with the general on the main road.

There were already Hardornen troops at Ragnar's chosen lookout as he neared the spot. It was only logical they would know their land better than he did and the location was ideal for watching any battle at the border crossing. Ragnar remained hidden in the trees, studying the situation.

There were at least ten men present, including an officer who remained on his horse; not even Alberich could deal with so many. Tentatively, Ragnar reached out with his mindspeech, finding that none of them had mindshields. This was war, Ragnar decided, and began listening to their thoughts. Mikizi added her approval.

The officer's thoughts repelled him: The officer was one of Oberst Winkler's men, brought from Crown City and set over the group, which was a signal unit. The officer was contemptuous of the soldiers and thought them weak, though he did not understand the system they used to communicate with the other sections. If they failed, they would suffer for it – two of the troopers were his goons, ready and willing to dole out punishment whenever the officer deemed it necessary. Ragnar sensed the officer was profoundly thuggish and ignorant; with relief, Ragnar moved on to the others after leaning that there were thirteen in all, including the officer.

Excluding the two goons, four of the other soldiers were the signalmen, relaying the orders and messages between the various units and the commander. Two of the men were spotters, charged with noting anything happening either on the Hardornen side plus what they could see on the Valdemar side. Four more were guards, charged with protecting the signalmen and spotters. Nominally, the goons were protectors as well, but Ragnar quickly learned the others hated and feared the goons and the officer. Several of the regulars entertained thoughts of defecting.

General Chase enthusiastically approved Ragnar's decision to read the thoughts of the signalmen, which would give her a better idea of what the Hardornens actually planned than simply having Ragnar observe the battlefield himself.

###

By two candlemarks after sunrise, both armies were in position. General Chase confessed her bafflement as to how Oberst Winkler planned to advance since the 'front line' consisted of nothing more than the width of the road – a space only wide enough for a dozen soldiers standing shoulder to shoulder. The upper pass, though wider, was extremely rough and strewn with boulders; it was easy to hold off any attempt to use it for a flanking maneuver using only a small number of defenders.

The Hardornen army reached the border post. Even more puzzling, Winkler filled his front lines with very young men; in General Chase's and Major Mazur's assessment, they looked like they barely knew how to hold their weapons rather than being the hardened shock troops needed to break an enemy line. The Valdemaran officers noted the nervousness and uncertainty in the stance of the Hardornen front line.

Oberst Winkler himself took position on the Devil's Pinch, a place that would give him a clear view of the front line and some distance along the road on the Valdemaran side. It was out of effective arrow range. Winkler sat on his horse, doing nothing, while the Valdemarans waited for him to move. General Chase ground her teeth: Valdemaran Law forbade initiating a battle or marching into enemy lands; she was certain that the inexperience troopers on the Hardornen front would break if she let her men charge them.

Beside Oberst Winkler, the 'scholar' Ragnar described moved up to the altar the Hardornens had constructed. At first, the Valdemarans were curious as soldiers pulled a naked man from a wagon and dragged him towards the altar. As the naked man fought the six men holding his chains, the Valdemarans became uneasy and then horrified as the Hardornens chained the man face up on the altar.

"I never heard the Hardornens practiced human sacrifice." General Chase said, not believing what she thought was happening.

"Never that I've heard of." Captain Ritter said nervously.

Major Pfizer, permitted to observe, burst out. "Never! Never! It's impossible. The very idea is disgusting."

Once they secured the naked man to the altar, the soldiers withdrew and the 'scholar' stepped forward. The scholar stretched his hands over the sacrifice, holding a pose for a sunwidth, appearing to meditate or pray. As General Chase and her officers watched, the man on the altar began to writhe and arch his back; his mouth opened as though he would scream, but no sound emerged. Nothing visible happened to the sacrifice, but they sensed a _drawing_ from him, as though his life was being extracted at a cost of unbearable agony.

Alex Ritter was the first to notice the change in the Hardornen front line. The nervous movements and looks of the front ranks stilled and their faces lost all expression. They raised their swords and shields and stiffly posed in a ready position. The Valdemaran front line readied themselves to meet an attack, but the Hardornens stood woodenly for a sunwidth, eerily motionless and stiff.

Oberst Winkler waved his hand and a volley of arrows flew over the Hardornen front line. The Valdemarans were ready; they roared as they raised their shields to deflect the arrows harmlessly.

At the same time, a signalman beside Winkler waved flags in the direction of the Hardornen lookout across the gorge.

"Ragnar says that's the order to attack." Pike relayed the message unnecessarily as Valdemaran archers responded with their own volley. The Hardornens raised their own shields, but the movement was mechanical and a little slow: At least three arrows hit the Hardornen troops. The Hardornens made no sound and their expressions did not change. Instead, they marched forward in a stiff lock-step, as if they were wooden toys propelled by a hidden mechanism. Even the wounded men moved in the same lifeless steps, holding their swords and shields as though indifferent to the arrows in their flesh.

The Valdemaran troops exchanged uneasy glances, preparing to meet the advancing Hardornen line. The hair rose on the necks of the officers as they watched the eerie, puppet-like advance.

The two lines met, each side striking at the other. The Hardornens moved in unison, every man making the same motion as he struck the Valdemarans, moving in a steady, regular, predictable pattern. The Valdemarans were nimbler, striking swiftly and forcing holes where they could thrust their swords into the enemy, who still maintained their insensate silence even in the face of terrible wounds.

As General Chase strove to make sense of the situation, Pike passed another message from Tobias. "Our men on the upper pass have been flanked. That body of troops that Ragnar saw going north yesterday circled around the mountain and came over the snow. Tobias says they're resisting, but getting pushed back."

"Send Captain Yarr and one company to support Lieutenant Halmar." General Chase ordered. "Tell Herald Tobias and Lieutenant Halmar to hold at all costs until Yarr arrives."

The fighting on the front line continued. With the bizarre Hardornen attack, the Valdemarans were inflicting ten times the casualties they received, but even terribly injured men on the Hardornen side continued to fight. As General Chase watched, one Hardornen received a deep cut in his throat; the man did not make a sound and kept swinging his sword in a steady pattern even while the open artery spurted pulses of blood. Only when the man bled out did he fall down; the man behind walked right over his body to take his place. Another man lost his arm at the elbow – he kept swinging the severed arm as though it still held a sword until he too bled out and collapsed.

Though the Valdemarans suffered far fewer injuries, the unnatural silence and movements of their enemies was frightening. General Chase saw the signs of unease and fear in her troopers. At that moment, she understood her opponent's tactics: Oberst Winkler _did not care_ how many men he lost and would sacrifice them all to drive the Valdemarans back. General Chase did a quick calculation. She might lose only one soldier for every ten of the enemy's, but her troops were greatly outnumbered. The Hardornens would wear them down. Also, she could see the effect on her men of the puppet-like Hardornen fighting: Fear and unease were growing and panic was possible.

"They're choking us on their own guts." She said to herself, trying to understand _how_ the Hardornens were doing it. Her earlier thoughts of puppets crystallized and she looked once more at the 'scholar' and the victim on his altar. "That's how they're doing it. He's controlling them somehow." She pointed at the 'scholar'. "Take him out!"

"He's out of arrow range, Sir." Major Mazur said.

"I may be able to help." Herald Katie moved forward on her Companion, taking a position between the general and the major.

Katie swallowed hard, knowing what she had to do. She'd never used her Gift to kill – in fact, she'd never killed by any means. Resolving herself, she centered and focused. She reached out with her mind. "There's a shield of some sort." She said absently. She concentrated harder, pushing with all her power to reach through the shield. Jakayr supported her, feeding his strength through her.

In her training, she'd practiced reaching through the mindshields of other Heralds. Using one of the focusing gestures Kyril taught her, Katie stretched out her hand, miming the act of grabbing an object. She penetrated the shield protecting the 'scholar' and grabbed him. With a twist of her mind, she flung him into the gorge and he plummeted screaming into the torrent below. Gasping for breath, Katie slumped forward; Pike moved up and put his hand on her shoulder.

The sacrifice on the altar spasmed and screamed before collapsing in place. A breath later, there was a roar from the Hardornen front lines. The sudden outcry startled the Valdemarans, who paused for a moment. The Valdemarans did not strike again.

Instead, the Hardornens came to life: Those who were injured began screaming in pain and collapsed on the grounds. Their expressions showed terror; most flung down their weapons and turned to flee. Those further back seemed to waken from a trance. They shook their heads and looked at the swords in their hands. Then hate came into their eyes. With a roar, they too turned and attacked their officers and the goons supporting the officers.

The troopers nearest Oberst Winkler were his picked men; he pointed towards the rebellious front line and ordered his loyal troops forward. The leading third of the Hardornen column disintegrated into a mass of fratricidal fighting. Winkler's officers whipped the men on their own side, urging them against the rebels. A few of the 'loyal' men now turned on their officers, who know used their swords to defend themselves. One soldier ran at Oberst Winkler, who struck him with a morning star.

The Valdemarans, soldiers and officers alike, watched the chaos unfold. Katie straightened in her saddle and smiled at Pike. Turning back to the battle, she saw Oberst Winkler raise his morning star again. This time, there was no shield and Katie plucked him from his saddle and threw him screaming into the gorge. Oberst Winkler bounced twice on the canyon walls as he fell.

Katie turned to the remaining officers fighting the rebellious troops. One after another, she sent them spinning into the gorge. After the sixth officer went flying, the remaining loyal troops panicked; they turned and fled with the enraged rebels in pursuit. The Hardornen force turned, one half chasing the other back towards Rabenbrücke.

"Katie! Tobias says they can't hold any longer!" Pike said. "Can you help?"

She stretched her farsight to its limits and 'saw' a Hardornen officer ready to strike at Tobias' unprotected side. She grabbed the officer and flung him into the canyon as well. The Valdemarans jumped as the screaming Hardornen appeared far above their heads and dropped towards them. He struck the far side of the canyon and ricocheted into the water. More screaming Hardornens followed.

Pike shook her shoulder. "Enough, Katie! Tobias says they're running!" One last Hardornen plummeted down, screaming until he splatted onto Devil's Pinch a few feet from the altar and rolled over the edge.

Katie rocked in the saddle, gasping for breath. "I have a headache." She said, provoking nervous laughter from the officers.

Alex Ritter pointed to the lookout on the far side where a man on a rearing horse teetered on the edge, then toppled over, bouncing down the steep cliff. A moment later, two more men flew off the cliff. Even at a distance, the Valdemarans could hear their screams echoing faintly as they fell to their deaths.

Pike looked at Katie. "That wasn't me." She smiled, then fainted over Jakayr's neck.


	27. Chapter 27 - Behind Enemy Lines

Chapter 27 – Behind Enemy Lines

" _The enemy of my enemy is my friend." – Proverbial_

Frustrated at not being able to aid the fight, Ragnar listened to the thoughts of the Hardornen signalmen as the battle in the gorge below unfolded.

 _::Don't be silly.::_ Mikizi chided. _::Just because you're not swinging a sword doesn't mean you are not helping them fight. Besides, if one of those guards happens to spot you, you are going to get all the fight you want.::_

Ragnar acknowledged the truth of his Companion's words, even as he passed his observations on to Pike. Still, he was faintly embarrassed that the 'information' he passed along was mostly things the Heralds and officers below already knew. He hadn't even been able to warn them of the surprise flanking maneuver on the upper pass. He mulled the information Pike passed to him and, like General Chase, wondered about the strange behavior of the Hardornen front line.

When Katie used her Gift to hurl the blood-mage – as the Hardornen spotters called him – into the gorge, their surprise was so strong that Ragnar _saw_ the man fall through the eyes of the spotters. A few moments later, Ragnar heard the roar of anger as the Hardornen front line revolted. All of the spotters and signalmen were pointing excitedly at the chaos below. The officer rode forward, urging his nervous horse near the edge so he could look himself.

"Good riddance to that bastard!" One of the Hardornens shouted as Oberst Winkler bounced off the walls of the gorge and the raging river swallowed him. The officer looked at the soldier in outrage and opened his mouth to speak, but was distracted when most of the men cheered. They repeated their cheers as Katie flung more of Winkler's detested officers into the river.

"Filthy traitors!" The officer drew his sword and swung at a nearby soldier.

"Winkler was the traitor! He helped kill King Alessandar!" One of the spotters shouted. All of the regular soldiers turned on the officer and his two goons, surrounding them and driving them back. The regular troopers pushed the others towards the cliff-edge. With his back to the canyon, the officer spurred his horse to break through the rebellious troops just as one of them swung a sword in his face. The officer flinched backwards, yarding on the reins and causing the horse to rear. A soldier stabbed the horse in the chest – Ragnar flinched as he remembered killing Kensie's horse years ago. Whinnying in terror, the horse toppled over backwards, taking the officer with it. The regular soldiers turned their attention to the two goons, seizing them and hurling them after the officer.

The ten men watched the goons tumble into the river, then turned to look at one another. "What do we do now?" One of them asked.

They looked at one another as the implication of what they'd done sunk in. "We say we were attacked by the Valdemarans and Holberg went over the cliff in the fighting?" One suggested.

"Winkler wouldn't believe us." Another said.

"Winkler's dead." The first man said.

"But there are still some of his thugs around. The Valdemaran magic didn't get them all. And there will be more from Crown City." A third man pointed out.

The signal crew argued for several sunwidths while Ragnar and Mikizi watched, gradually coming to the conclusion their only alternative was to flee to Valdemar. Ragnar, seeing the way the discussion was going, made a decision; even if he were wrong, Mikizi could get him away. None of the crew had horses or bows.

He mounted Mikizi and rode out from their hiding place, stopping just at the edge of the trees about fifty yards from the Hardornens. "If you wish to go to Valdemar, I can show you the way." He spoke in Hardornen to the startled soldiers.

The astonished men raised their swords warily. "Who are you?" One said. Now that Ragnar was closer, he could see the feldwebel insignia on the man's shoulder.

"I am Herald Ragnar of Valdemar. I've been watching you." He pointed back at the place he'd been hiding.

"You've been spying on us?" The feldwebel asked suspiciously.

"Yes." Ragnar said simply. "Since you held the lookout I wanted to use, I decided to watch you and watch your signals." Ragnar did not want to tell them he'd read their minds.

The feldwebel bristled. "What did you do? How could you tell your people what you learned?"

"One of my fellow Heralds can speak to the rest of us mind-to-mind over great distances. He was with our general down below." This was getting too close to the subject Ragnar wanted to avoid. Deliberately, he changed the subject. "I saw you push Leutnant Holberg and his henchmen over the edge. I heard you decide you wanted to defect. I can show you a way to get to Valdemar without going back through Rabenbrücke."

"We know the trail on the west side." A kapral said. "We don't need your help."

"You will be in the open in plain sight of any of Winkler's men who are still around. They can easily pick you off with bows." Ragnar pointed out.

The ten men looked at each other. Ragnar sat calmly on Mikizi while they debated his proposal. They came to a decision. "How do we know we can trust you?" The feldwebel asked. "You say you're a Herald and you ride a white horse, but how do we know? Don't Heralds wear white?"

"Usually we do wear white." Ragnar admitted. "But that would be a little conspicuous while I am spying."

A few of the men snickered. Taking that as a positive sign, Ragnar rode forward, closing within ten yards before he stopped once more.

"I know you!" The kapral said. "I saw you talking to Major Pfizer. You're the one who jumped across the river!"

Ragnar nodded his head. "Yes, I am. And this is my Companion Mikizi." He used the Hardornen word for 'comrade' to make clear that Mikizi was no mere 'horse'.

 _::It won't make any difference, Chosen.::_ Mikizi snickered.

After a little more discussion, the Hardornens agreed to go with Ragnar. He led them along the trails he'd originally planned to use to infiltrate Hardorn through the alpine meadows south-west of the river.

At first, they moved in silence, the Hardornens not fully trusting Ragnar.

Pike reached out to Ragnar, who explained what he was doing. _::We'll have someone meet you at the border.::_ Pike said. _::General Chase wants you to follow that group heading for Karse. We'll bring additional travel rations for you.::_

Ragnar sighed mentally and agreed. He turned his attention back to the Hardornens.

Gradually, he got to know their names as they marched along. They shared rations when they stopped for rest. Feldwebel Lorenz Weis didn't like it when Ragnar told them others would lead them down to Ravens Gorge while Ragnar continued his mission, but slowly gave over his suspicion of Ragnar while they talked. He shared his bitterness over the thugs who had come with Oberst Winkler, taking the place of the officers and most of the non-coms. Kapral Poul Lang, on the other hand, was curious about Mikizi and asked endless questions about her.

Major Tewkes-Felthan and Sergeant Spears met Ragnar and the Hardornens at the border. When the Hardornens went to surrender their weapons, Urson smiled and refused. Urson pointed at Ragnar "He vouches for you. That's sufficient." Feldwebel Weis' eyes widened and he saluted Ragnar.

The exchange complete, Ragnar took the additional rations and headed towards Kruk Góra.

###

"Is she alright?" General Chase cast a worried look at Herald Katie, who slumped unconscious over Jakayr's neck.

"Just Gift-strain, I think." Pike said as he checked his intern.

Chanur reassured him Katie was ok. _::But she's going to feel as though her head's got a crack in it as deep as that gorge.::_

Pike secured Katie into the saddle before Jakayr turned and carefully started walking back to Ravens Gorge. Word of Katie's feat had already spread down the line. The soldiers moved aside as Jakayr took her back to the Healers. As she passed, the soldiers raised their swords in silent tribute.

"I'm afraid she's reached her limit, though. She won't be able to do any more." Pike turned back to the general.

"Thank her for me – and all of us." General Chase said. She gestured at the border. Only dead and wounded lay on the Hardornen side, as far as any could see down the road. Already, Valdemaran soldiers were moving to assist he injured on the Hardornen side. A few of the horses belonging to the officers Katie launched into the gorge wandered aimlessly about. In the distance, they could still hear the faint sounds of the Hardornens fighting each other.

The general consulted her staff. So long as they were not trying to take Hardornen territory, she approved providing relief to the injured Hardornens. She looked at Major Pfizer as she spoke and the refugee officer thanked her.

Major Pfizer cleared his throat. "General, may I take my men and try to help my people? That wouldn't be an invasion." He flushed slightly. "I give you my parole I will return."

General Chase smiled. "You are not prisoners, Major, and your parole is unnecessary. You must make your own decision whether to stay here or return permanently to Hardorn. If you are going to send more refugees, however, please try to give us some forewarning. And let us know if there are any refugees you do not trust."

"I will do that." Major Pfizer said. He saluted and headed back to the town to organize his men for a sortie back into Hardorn. Over the last few days, a steady trickle of refugees fled to Ravens Gorge; they were already putting a strain on the temples and almshouse. General Chase ordered more tents and emergency supplies brought in, but it would take time to organize proper food and shelter.

By now, the healers and their volunteer helpers were bringing injured Hardornens back across the border. They unchained the man on the altar, who was unconscious. The wagon was still there; they found three more naked men chained inside, all battered and terrified. The Valdemarans could not find keys for the locks, so they gave the men blankets and water while they wrestled to break the locks. In the end, Captain Alex Ritter came over and picked the locks, raising everybody's eyebrows.

###

Ragnar headed south, following back trails towards Karse. Behind him, he could see Hardornens fighting one another in the distance. By the time he crossed the next ridge, the fighting reached Rabenbrücke.

By sunset, Ragnar approached the smuggler's camp where he planned to spend the night. The camp was five miles from the Karse-Hardorn border. From prior expeditions, he knew the patrol habits of the Sunsguard and Hardornens in the area. Both were highly predictable, something that would enrage General Chase if her troops did it, but very much to Ragnar's advantage.

As always, Ragnar 'listened' passively with his mindspeech while scouting territory. A half-mile from the camp, he sensed several minds. There was someone there camp already. Thinking he would have to find another place, Ragnar cautiously approached the camp to identify the occupants and assess the risk they posed. Once he and Mikizi slipped close enough to the camp to see who was there, Ragnar scanned the others with his spyglass. Grinning, he put it away and rode boldly into their midst.

"Hello, Szymon! What brings you to Hardorn?" Ragnar greeted the smuggler in Karsite. Szymon Lucja grabbed a sword at first, then relaxed as he recognized Ragnar.

"You scared me, you White Demon *** ** * *****!" Szymon replied in the same language. "And I might ask you the same question, if I didn't know there was a war."

When Ragnar took the circuit a year ago, he renewed his acquaintance with Szymon. The Karsite smuggler often shared information about bandits, liking them no more than the Heralds, villagers or soldiers did, but generally drew the line at talking about the Sunsguard or the Sunpriests. That, he said, would be treason. Sometimes, Szymon dropped a name or mentioned an event to a Herald or guard officer, who would carefully show no interest while assiduously making note. Ragnar suspected many of Szymon's 'lapses' were deliberate and served the smuggler's own purposes.

Still, Ragnar and Szymon had a cautious friendship. Ragnar dismounted and shook Szymon's hand. "Mind if I share your camp?" Ragnar asked. Szymon waved to the firepit, where his crew watched warily.

After untacking Mikizi and laying out his bedroll, Ragnar joined the circle. Szymon handed a cup of strong tisane. "As you thought, my friend, it is war that brings me here." Ragnar began. It was no secret, Ragnar decided, and better that he told as much truth as he knew, so he told the smuggler the whole story.

"Did your Heralds murder King Alessandar?" Szymon asked.

"No. It is unthinkable. Ancar murdered his father – that's what our people say and that's what Major Pfizer found out later, before he defected." Ragnar said.

"Pfizer defected?" Szymon said. "When did that happen? Those thugs who came to Kruk Góra did not seem like the Hardornen soldiers I knew." Ragnar wasn't surprised the smuggler knew who was the local commander.

When Ragnar related how Major Pfizer and half his men defected, bringing the major's nephew and other officers' families as refugees. He told Szymon what he had seen of Oberst Winkler and how Katie defeated Winkler and his 'scholar' at the border. Szymon accepted the tale, though Ragnar noted how several of Szymon's men became uneasy when Ragnar spoke of Katie's Gift.

Szymon sat still and quiet for several sunwidths He glanced at his crew; Ragnar could see the question in his eyes. The crewmen stared back; one by one, they nodded to Szymon.

Szymon Lucja gave a heavy sigh. "My friend, I will ask you a favor. But first, I must tell you why."

"I cannot break the law, but I will help you in any way I can." Ragnar said cautiously.

Szymon nodded "That is fair and I do not think you would break any laws of your country.

"Do you remember Captain Alikan, the officer who defected when you became a Herald?" The smuggler asked. At Ragnar's nod, he went on. "Duke Geerhard loves his son still and blames Hierophant Rhithik for what happened. He loathes Rhithik and wants him excommunicated and banished – impossible, of course, considering who Rhithik's father is." Ragnar's eyebrows went up. Never before had Szymon spoken so openly of Karsite affairs.

Szymon ignored Ragnar's expression and plowed on. "Duke Geerhard has been sending money and letters to his son, supporting him in exile." Ragnar nodded again. He had seen Khal Alikan several times in Bransat and Poldara; the former sunsguard captain seemed to be living well above the normal standard of a count's armsmaster. Now he had an explanation.

"Those letters and money have come through me." Szymon confessed. "Two years ago, Hierophant Rhithik came to Kruk Góra; it is said his father wants Rhithik away from Sunhame, somewhere he can't make trouble - Kruk Góra seemed right. Perhaps that made the Conclave happy, but Rhithik continues to meddle and plot. He has made life difficult for everyone in Kruk Góra and the lands around it. He and his lackeys take what they want and respect no one. Baron Miklos despises him, but must bend the knee.

"A moon ago, one of his flunkies captured Duke Geerhard's agent before the man could reach me. I don't think the agent spoke before they killed him – I doubt I would be alive if he had – but it is too close."

"Are you asking me for permission to move to Valdemar?" Ragnar anticipated Szymon's request.

The smuggler gulped and nodded. "For me and my men. And our families."

"You know Valdemar has always welcomed refugees." Ragnar said.

Szymon Lucja made an equivocating gesture. "Well, occasionally, we haven't exactly been entirely lawful when it comes to Valdemar." He said, adding quickly "Nothing really bad, mind you. We just 'misunderstood' a few of the minor regulations."

Ragnar chuckled in amusement. "And you want these 'misunderstandings' forgotten, I suppose?"

"Just asking if you will let bygones be bygones." Szymon said. "Plus, a few of my men had, shall we say, a little more 'adventurous' careers before joining me." Ragnar saw one or two of the men shift uncomfortably.

"Any bodies?" Ragnar asked.

"No bodies." The smuggler was emphatic.

Ragnar laughed outright, shaking his head. "Goodman Szymon Lucja, how much gold do you have deposited in the Kalugin Bank in Redruth?"

Szymon nodded eagerly. "I thought we could come to terms. Would five hundred crowns be enough?"

Mikizi snorted loudly and Ragnar laughed again, holding up his hand. "That will not be necessary. Of course you may settle in Valdemar. If it will make you more comfortable, I will sign general pardons for you and your men for anything less than robbery, assault or murder." The men around the fire grinned.

"The reason I asked about the money was to see if you were the sort of man who prepares for when things go wrong. Such a man is careful and careful men are useful. I can't give you a pardon if I don't make it home." Ragnar's eyes flicked to the southwest, towards Karse.

Szymon's mouth opened in a round O of astonishment. "You mean to go to Kruk Góra! Are you seeking Hierophant Rhithik? He means to destroy you, you know."

Ragnar wondered what Szymon's sources were; few knew that Ragnar was the one who thwarted and injured Rhithik seven years ago. Even in Valdemar, the story wasn't secret but not common knowledge. Rhithik would have learned it from spies, but he was unlikely to have shared it willingly. Ragnar shook his head. "No, I want to avoid him. I am interested in the Hardornen troops that came this way yesterday."

Szymon made a face. "I saw those this morning in Karlsheim. I wondered what Hardornen soldiers were doing in Karse. They were a very strange mix of lambs and ruffians." Ragnar's eyes widened, but Szymon shook his head dismissively. "No. I wasn't going anywhere near them. I saw them and headed the other way."

Ragnar grimaced in disappointment. "Thank you for that. At least I know they've definitely gone to Karse."

"Ah, but I think I have more information that might interest you." The smuggler said. "Rhithik is very interested in Leiden Pass." Ragnar raised his eyebrows. Leiden Pass was a very high pass between the two countries. Too narrow for a wagon or military column, it was used by smugglers with backpacks or sturdy mules. It emerged at Leiden, for which it was named, at the head of a valley leading directly to Ravens Gorge.

"And…." Ragnar prompted.

"He's been sending Sunsguard troopers out with picks and shovels." Szymon said.

Ragnar blinked. With General Chase focused on the threat from Hardorn, a surprise raid on Leiden wouldn't cost much, especially coming from an unexpected direction. The Karsites couldn't hold it long of course, but one thing was sure to happen….

"Yes. You White Demons always come running whenever there's trouble, don't you?" The astute smuggler might be Karsite, but he'd spent enough time in Valdemar to know something about Heralds.

 _::He might not snare you, but there's Pike, Katie and Tobias.::_ Mikizi pointed out. _::We know he wants a Herald to wave in front of the Conclave.::_

Ragnar had to get word to General Chase, who wanted him to follow the Hardornens. He couldn't turn back and Pike was out of range. "Szymon, can you get a letter to the guard in Ravens Gorge?"

Szymon paused. "Our families are still in Karse. There's too much risk if we are seen associating with your guard before we get them out." He hesitated for a moment. "I do have a contact at the Drachenkopf in Rabenbrücke – is there someone he could pass the letter to?"

"Yes!" Ragnar said. "Major Pfizer is back in Rabenbrücke to rescue some of the people there. If your contact could get it to Pfizer, he can get it back to General Chase." Idly, Ragnar wondered if Szymon's contact was also Ragnar's contact.

Mikizi whickered. _::People who traffic in information often have many buyers.::_

Ragnar wrote a quick report and gave it to Szymon, who promised to deliver it to his contact. "Whether he will be able to get it to your people, I do not know." Szymon warned. "However, I do have one more piece of information that may be useful: There is a man I know who lives near Kruk Góra. He hates the Sunpriests and would do anything to hurt them."

"Including helping a White Demon and a Hell-horse?" Ragnar asked cautiously.

"The sunpriests burned two of his children for having 'witch powers'. He wants to strike a blow at them, but he dares not for the sake of his two surviving children." Szymon said.

Ragnar looked skeptical. "Why should he risk his children for my sake?"

"He would if you would get them to Valdemar." Szymon gave Ragnar an enquiring look.

"How do you know this?" Ragnar asked.

"His wife was my cousin. When she died, I was the only one who dared console him. Get Walter and his children to safety and I am your man forever." Szymon vowed.

"I will do everything in my power." Ragnar promised. "There is no obligation. That is the sort of thing Heralds do all the time."

###

In the morning twilight, Ragnar and Mikizi entered Karse on a secret trail three miles west of Karlsheim. They knew the exact moment from the now-familiar 'wrongness' he sensed whenever he crossed the border, though Mikizi's support made it more bearable.


	28. Chapter 28 - White and Black

Chapter 28 – White and Black

" _It is a man's own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways." - Buddha_

Ragnar peeked between the branches, eyeing the farmstead closely and deciding how best to approach Walter Bloem. Goodman Bloem worked steadily, weeding the rows between his vegetables. His children labored beside him; like farm children everywhere, they were extra hands once they were old enough to wield a hoe. Ragnar noted he ordered his children to rest regularly.

 _::He is a very dutiful farmer.::_ Mikizi observed. _::He should do well at the market.::_

 _::You forget he must pay an extra tithe for the 'sin' of siring children with 'witch powers'.::_ Ragnar reminded her. Szymon Lucja had told Ragnar the full story of his cousin's widower.

Goodman Bloem made his way down the rows. As he neared Ragnar's position, the farmer sent his children into the house. Just as Ragnar was about to whisper to him, Walter Bloem spoke instead. "Come when I put the candle in the window. I will leave the barn door open for your horse."

Ragnar's jaw dropped. "I will." He whispered as softly as possible. Walter gave the slightest nod.

He waited patiently. Just before sunset, Walter and his children walked with his neighbors to the Temple for sundescending prayer. After the chant ended, Walter returned to his house, bidding his neighbors 'goodnight' as he went in.

 _::Do you think it could be a trap?::_ Ragnar asked. He touched Mikizi's shoulder to keep their mindspeech hidden.

 _::He could be trading us for the protection of his children.::_ Mikizi said.

 _::He could. But Szymon vouched for him. Also, I sense he is a good man.::_ Ragnar's spirit sense told him to trust the farmer. Nevertheless, he opened his mindshield, staying carefully passive the way Eldan had taught him to avoid detection by the sunpriests. He sensed nothing hostile.

The twilight grew darker and everything became quiet. They could see the light from the stove flickering within the house. The curtains opened and a candle appeared. With smooth, quiet movement, Ragnar and Mikizi went to the open barn door. Mikizi sniffed, her sensitive nose telling her there were no unexpected people there. The door between the house and the barn opened, spilling a small pool of light inside.

"There's water, grain and hay for your horse. Close the outside door and put him in the back stall." Walter said. "Put his gear under the hay." He stood in the door while Ragnar quickly followed his instructions.

Done, Ragnar went to the door and followed the farmer in. A boy and a girl, about nine and seven, looked at Ragnar solemnly. Walter Bloem offered his hand "I never met a Demon Rider before. The sunpriests tell me you are evil, but I can't imagine any more evil than they."

Ragnar swallowed and shook Walter's hand. "I swear I will do you no evil, but I ask you to watch my deeds, not my words." His eyes flicked to the children.

Walter followed his look. "Gerd and Sena have learned to speak to no one and trust none outside the three of us. From hard experience."

Ragnar saw a letter 'G' branded on the boy's cheek. Alberich had told him the 'G' brand meant the child was a blasphemer – it was the first letter of the word in Karsite.

 _::They are both Gifted.::_ Mikizi said. _::The boy is a Healer, the girl has a Bardic Gift and they both have mindspeech. Goodman Bloem is Gifted himself – it's very repressed, but that's how he knew we were there this afternoon.::_ Ragnar felt relief that he hadn't betrayed himself through carelessness.

"Why are you sheltering me?" Ragnar asked. "You are putting your family in danger."

The farmer's face twisted in anger. "We are already doomed." He said. "I want a measure of satisfaction for that."

Ragnar took a deep breath. "Why not come to Valdemar?"

"I do not know Valdemar." Walter said. "You might be worse."

"Valdemar does not burn children." Ragnar said.

Walter looked doubtful. "So you say."

 _::Bring them to me, Chosen.::_ Mikizi interrupted.

"My Companion – she is not a 'Hell-horse' – will show you. Come and meet her." Ragnar said.

Reluctantly, the family went into the dark barn. Not daring to show light in case someone outside was watching, they allowed only the light coming from the door and made their way to Mikizi.

The children touched her, then threw their arms around her, weeping. "She's wonderful, papa." Gerd said.

"Have you witched my children?" Walter looked angry.

"Touch her yourself."

Hesitantly, the farmer stretched out his hand to touch her neck. He caressed her for a moment, looking thoughtful; for the first time since Ragnar saw him, he smiled. "Very well, we will go with you."

They returned to the house and made plans. The Hardornen troops had only arrived around noon and Walter knew nothing except what he overheard at the Temple. Walter did know about the soldiers laboring in Leiden pass. "There's rumors they're setting up a lookout." He snorted. "We haven't needed one before, why now?" He locked eyes with Ragnar. "This has something to do with those Hardornens, hasn't it?"

"I came here following the Hardornens." Ragnar admitted. "My people need to know what they are doing here." He told Walter about seeing them march off with the Sunlancer, priest and Baron Kruków's man.

"I know little of Baron Kruków." Walter said. "They say he is very house-proud. His family has held Kruk Góra for a thousand years."

They talked only a little longer. Ragnar would scout the town for two days while Walter quietly made preparations for the journey. As any proper Karsite would, they snuffed the candle, banked the stove and closed the shutters early. Ragnar laid his blanket on the floor by the stove and went to sleep.

###

Ragnar slipped out of the house well before first light. Mikizi stayed in Walter's barn, unhappy to be separated from her Chosen but there was no disguising what she was.

Kruk Góra was large enough that people did not know all of their fellow townsfolk, but not so large that a conspicuous newcomer could pass unnoticed. Accordingly, Ragnar was deliberately conspicuous, presenting himself at the gate as a mercenary from unsettled lands west of Rethwellan, speaking only a hundred Karsite words pronounced atrociously. He was in Kruk Góra to meet a man who would take him to Crown City in Hardorn and was not presently for hire. He paid the half-pfennig 'toll' and went in.

He made his way to the Sunshield Inn; according to Walter the preferred drinking place for the Baron's armsmen. He took the spot nearest the privy, knowing it was a spot where none would challenge his possession. With an embarrassed flush and gestures, he mimed a 'flux' requiring frequent and urgent visits to the privy. The same 'flux' explained his preference for simple bread and small beer. He whittled, apparently to pass the time.

Through the day, the baron's own men and the Hardornen soldiers came and went; Ragnar noted that each group kept to themselves and there was tension between them. Each group spoke in their own language and made frequent derogatory comments about the other, counting on the other group's ignorance of their tongue. Beyond occasional glances, Ragnar apparently focused on his whittling. When anyone spoke to him, he asked in bad Karsite if they were 'Ritter Heymann's man' sent to contact him and repeated it in the language of the Clans. After a few attempts to talk to Ragnar, the regulars gave up due to the 'language barrier.'

Ragnar listened to the soldiers talk among themselves. Within two candlemarks, it was clear they were going to attack Valdemar soon: The new road was nearly complete and they would move in a day or two. Ragnar could tell they had no word from Rabenbrücke, since they spoke of trapping the Valdemaran guard in a pincer movement with Oberst Winkler's force.

By midafternoon, Ragnar decided there was no more information to be gained. He went to the innkeeper asking by gestures and a few mangled words if there was another inn where his 'contact' might go. The innkeeper reluctantly suggested the Pilgrim's Rest, near the gate. Ragnar left after extracting a promise to tell 'Ritter Heymann's man' that 'Bjorn son of Valen' was looking for him and 'Bjorn' would return tomorrow if he hadn't found his contact. For appearances, Ragnar did stop at the Pilgrim's Rest long enough to learn that 'Ritter Heymann's man' had not come there either.

The Sunsguard work party returned from Leiden Pass a half-candlemark before sunset. Ragnar used the milling and confusion as they entered the town to slip out unnoticed. Once out of sight, he circled through the woods to return to the farm.

###

Ragnar needed one more day to investigate the work of the Sunsguard at Leiden Pass. This time, Mikizi went with him as they followed game trails above and to the side of the smugglers' trail. The rugged trails were barely passable but Mikizi reassured him she had no difficulty, though their going was slow.

Ragnar could see the improvements to the main trail; the Sunsguard had widened it so three could march abreast and a rider could climb it without dismounting. _::They probably won't bring cavalry, though. No room for them to maneuver.::_ Ragnar said to Mikizi.

 _::The officers will still ride.::_ She pointed out.

As though her thought summoned them, several men on horseback appeared on the trail below their lookout. Ragnar focused his spyglass on the group. There were six mounted men with fifty men on foot. In front, a Sunsguard officer alertly scanned the surrounding area.

Ragnar's hair rose as he looked at the second rider: It was Hierophant Rhithik, clad in his black robe and wearing a huge gold Sundisk, following directly behind the officer. Ragnar almost did not recognize the priest. A huge red scar ran from Rhithik's hairline to his chin, crossing the orbit of his left eye. There was another scar on Rhithik's right cheek and a third on his forehead. From the way Rhithik dabbed at them, the scars appeared to be weeping. Ragnar remembered Alberich's grim face when the Weaponsmaster told him years ago: "Demon scars do not heal." Ragnar shuddered and tightened his mindshield.

Behind the priest rode two obviously highborn men whose surcoats bore the device of Baron Kruków – one middle-aged, the other in his mid-to-late teens. The elder was Baron Kruków – Ragnar could just make out the coronet above the device – and, by family resemblance, the other could only be his son. The baron's tight expression showed he was less than pleased with his company.

The last two were Hardornen officers. Ragnar did not recognize them from the times he had visited Major Pfizer's mess in Rabenbrücke. The way they sat on their horses told him the officers were not from the upper classes who rode from birth.

Ragnar shadowed the group to the summit of the pass, where they paused and, except for the priest, dismounted. There was a broad alpine meadow between them and the treeline on the Valdemar side. The Hardornen and Karsite leaders pointed out features of the landscape below to one another and obviously discussed tactics and how to use the ground. The baron and the sunlancer officer seemed very dismissive of the Hardornens; the baron's son stood to one side with folded arms looking angry. Occasionally, Rhithik intervened, giving orders from the back of his horse so the others had to look up at him. From the reactions of the two highborn and the sunlancer, they were unhappy with the priest's arrangements.

At last, the group turned and headed back to Kruk Góra. Ragnar watched them out of sight before continuing to the border himself – he had to ensure Leiden and Valdemar were warned. A hundred yards beyond the point where the sense of _wrongness_ ceased, he dropped his mindshields and cast out, hoping to reach Pike.

To his surprise, Pike responded immediately. _::Hello, Ragnar! We got your message two candlemarks ago, but we already knew the Karsites were up to something.::_ Pike was already in Leiden – local shepherds and woodsmen had noticed the Sunsguard working in the pass. They reported it to the garrison in Ravens Gorge just after Ragnar set out. General Chase sent Pike to Leiden to find out what was going on.

Ragnar told Pike what he'd learned. After Pike assured him they would be ready, Ragnar headed back to Walter Bloem and his family.

###

Ragnar and the family left the farm before first light in the morning. Ragnar took the lead on Mikizi with Sena perched in front of the saddle. Walter Bloem and Gerd rode bareback on his mare behind them. The mare was unhappy to go at night, but accepted Mikizi's 'leadership' and followed. With a Companion's sure-footed good sense, Mikizi had no difficulty finding her way.

The evening before, Ragnar and Walter discussed their route, deciding the direct path through the pass was safer than the long route back through Hardorn. "Besides," Walter said, "I think you'll be happier being near the battle if that priest decides to attack your land tomorrow."

"A battle's no place for children." Ragnar said.

"If what you told me is true, there's fighting in Hardorn right now." Walter said. "Seems we're just as likely to run into a battle there."

 _::He's had to make hard choices his whole life.::_ Mikizi said. _::I think he wants this over and done as soon as possible.::_

They were three hundred yards to the right of the main track and a hundred feet above it by the time it was light enough to see clearly. In the pre-dawn stillness, Ragnar could hear sounds of men and horses behind them. He slipped off Mikizi's saddle and whispered to Walter. "Keep going. I have to check. I will catch up." When the farmer tried to protest, Ragnar cut him off. "I am younger than you and more used to moving over this kind of trail. This won't take long. Keep going." Ragnar slipped away through the woods. To his relief, he could hear the mare's hoof beats as she plodded on.

Ragnar found a lookout in a few sunwidths and looked back towards Kruk Góra. The road behind wound, but Ragnar could see parts of it between the trees and small hills. Sunsguard, the Baron's personal troops and the Hardornen conscripts were headed towards Leiden Pass.

Ragnar sprinted back to the others, reaching Mikizi and the family a few sunwidths after the sun rose, shining off the east side of the peaks and glaciers above them.

Walter nodded as Ragnar came up. "Good" was all he said. Ragnar remounted Mikizi behind the little girl.

A half-candlemark later, they reached a point where the trail began to climb steeply. Ragnar dismounted and took the lead with Mikizi following. Walter dismounted as well and walked behind his mare. Ragnar had Gerd get behind Sena in Mikizi's saddle. "No matter what happens to us, you two keep going."

Sena looked tearful and Gerd opened his mouth to protest. "Do it" their father ordered.

Below them, on the widened and improved main track, the combined troops made much better time, coming up beside them and getting slightly ahead. By the time Ragnar and the family reached the treeline on the Karse side of the pass, the troopers formed a battle line across the meadow with the Sunsguard in the middle, Baron Kruków's troopers on the left and the Hardornens on the right, below Ragnar's position. The priest and a few officers stayed back on a ridge giving them a view of the field. Ragnar noted Baron Kruków was with his troopers instead of near the priest.

Ragnar stared down at the open meadow and the combined forces below. He hoped and wondered if the General Chase's troops were hiding in the trees on the other side, but he was still within Karse and dared not use his mindspeech to check. So long as the Karsite and Hardornen force was between him and Valdemar, there was no safe way to cross. The enemy forces remained in place, waiting for their orders to move forward.

A movement where the smuggler's track emerged from the trees caught Ragnar's eye. Two big men in the uniform of Temple Guards came forward, dragging a middle-aged woman between them. Her clothing was Valdemaran. She fought her captors, kicking and struggling, but they were too big. Relentlessly, they hauled her towards Rhithik; now Ragnar noticed two iron rings set into the rock before the priest. Ragnar remembered the altar from the battle in the gorge and made a decision.

He turned to Walter Bloem. "Get on Mikizi." He ordered. The farmer hesitated and Ragnar repeated the order. Walter mounted, cautiously taking a seat behind his children.

Ragnar pointed at the priest. "I am going down there. You stay with Mikizi. Don't touch her reins. When she moves, you and your children go with her. Stay on her and with her _no matter what happens._ She is your best chance to reach safety." Walter opened his mouth, but Ragnar shook his head angrily. "Get your children to safety!" He ordered. The farmer nodded and Ragnar slipped away downslope, just inside the treeline.

As Ragnar moved towards the floor of the pass, he took every chance to look at the priest and the woman between the gaps in the trees. Soon, he was close enough to hear her screams and shouts as she fought her captors. Roughly, the Temple Guards stripped her and tied her to the rings set in the stone.

Ragnar was nearly at the path when a roar erupted from the troops. The rise where Rhithik stood hid most of the meadow from Ragnar, but he could see the far end of the Hardornen line running towards the treeline on the Valdemar side. Rhithik and all of the officers turned their attention to the field, ignoring the woman for the moment.

Ragnar approached the path. Carefully, he looked back the way they had come. The officers' horses were picketed to one side, with a single Sunsguard trooper to guard them. There wasn't sufficient cover for Ragnar to get close to the guard. Ragnar strung his bow and drew an arrow from his quiver. Before he could shoot, the roar of the troops on the meadow turned to screams. The officers around Rhithik shouted excitedly to one another and several ran back to their horses. Ragnar retreated to deeper cover as the officers mounted and galloped out onto the battlefield, leaving Rhithik alone with the bound woman and the two Temple Guards.

Turning to the woman, Rhithik raised his hands over her body and began chanting. The woman's screams turned to screams of agony. Ragnar nocked an arrow and shot at the priest, hitting him in the shoulder. Rhithik shouted in pain and his two guards turned towards Ragnar, drawing their swords. Ragnar's second arrow took one of them in the chest. The other started towards Ragnar, who turned and sprinted towards the horses and the Sunsguard holding them.

The Sunsguard – hardly more than a boy – was still drawing his sword when Ragnar hit him in the face, sending the man to the ground. Grabbing the reins of the nearest horse, Ragnar threw himself on the horse's back and booted it.

The second Temple Guard braced himself as Ragnar charged at him. The guard shifted to Ragnar's left side and slashed at him, cutting Ragnar's thigh. Ragnar gritted his teeth against the pain and turned the horse to knock the guard down. As the man fell, Ragnar stabbed him the neck; the guard screamed and grabbed his neck with both hands, spitting blood as he writhed on the ground and died.

Raising his sword, Ragnar aimed the horse at Rhithik, who now faced him. Rhithik's hate-filled face showed a flash of recognition as he raised his good arm and pointed at Ragnar. Remembering Rhithik's attack in Fulda, Ragnar slipped out of the saddle and hung off the far side of the horse.

Blinding light reflected off the surrounding trees as something struck the horse's body. The animal bellowed an earthly neigh and died, tumbling forward. Ragnar dropped from the horse's side as it collapsed, hitting the ground in a roll as he'd been taught years before at Warford. The horse's body continued to tumble, slamming into the priest and rolling over him.

Despite a couple of hard bangs from rocks sticking up through the mossy ground, Ragnar remembered Corporal Reigel's lesson at Watford a decade before: "Get up immediately or you're dead." He ignored the pain in his side and on his face and jumped to his feet. The priest was unconscious, pinned under the body of the horse.

Ragnar glanced at the field. A rain of arrows poured out of the woods onto the invading troops and Valdemaran guardsmen were streaming onto the field. He could see at least two Companions charging forward. The Hardornen line had already collapsed and they were fleeing in all directions. Out of the woods on the Karse side, Ragnar saw Mikizi break from the trees racing towards Valdemar with Walter Bloem and his children clinging to her saddle.

"Help me!" The woman tied to the rock called out in Valdemaran, bringing Ragnar's attention back to where he was.

Ragnar ran around the body of the horse and cut the ropes tying her. "I'm Herald Ragnar." He told her. "We've got to get out of here."

"Look out!" The woman shouted, pointing behind Ragnar.

He turned to see the Sunsguard trooper he'd knocked down coming towards him, riding one horse and leading another. Ragnar raised his sword to defend himself. Instead of attacking, the trooper held out the reins of the horse he was leading. "Take me with you." He said in Karsite; unsure Ragnar would understand, he pointed to himself and Ragnar then made walking motions with his fingers towards Valdemar.

"Why?" Ragnar asked in Karsite.

The trooper pointed at Rhithik, still pinned under the dead horse. "He'll burn me." He said.

Ragnar took the reins from the trooper's hand. "Follow me." He said.

Turning back to the woman, Ragnar found a cloak attached to the saddle of the dead horse and gave it to her. After she wrapped it around herself, Ragnar lifted her into the saddle and mounted behind her.

As they walked forward, Ragnar could see the Hardornen soldiers racing back towards the pass. He turned the horse upslope to let the fleeing men go by. On the field, the Sunsguard contingent was falling back, albeit with more discipline than the Hardornens; Valdemaran guardsmen followed, keeping the pressure on with minimal actual fighting. On the left side, Baron Kruków and his men held their position as Valdemaran troops began encircling them.

The meadow was now wide open where the Hardornens once were. Ragnar turned across the open space, heading for Valdemar and home. Two Heralds broke off and cantered towards them, Ragnar recognized Jan and Thor.

"Demon Riders!" The Sunsguard trooper shouted.

Ragnar turned to look back at him. "They won't harm you. I promise." The trooper looked pale and swallowed hard.

Jan and Thor met Ragnar in the middle of the field, grinning broadly. As Tenno and Gadar halted smoothly and turned to escort them, Ragnar saw Mikizi break from the trees on the Valdemar side and gallop back towards him, leaving Walter Bloem and his children with Herald Tobias talking to the family at the edge of the meadow. He smiled as he noticed Walter Bloem holding the reins of his mare, which had evidently followed Mikizi across the meadow.

When Mikizi reached him, Ragnar dismounted from the captured horse. He groaned. With the battle past, the cut on his leg began throbbing. Ragnar touched his chest and stifled a gasp, he must have broken a rib. As he raised his hand to his face, Thor said "You are going to have a magnificent black eye."

Mikizi lay down in front of him. As Ragnar painfully swung a leg over her saddle, the Sunsguard trooper gaped at Ragnar "You're a Demon Rider?" Ragnar just grinned at him as Mikizi rose. The five headed back to Valdemar with Thor and Ragnar on either side of the rescued woman. Behind them, Jan explained everything in Karsite to the Sunsguard trooper.

The 'wrongness' Ragnar always felt in Karse disappeared behind them. Despite his bruises and injuries, Ragnar relaxed. He was home.


	29. Chapter 29 - Honor and Dishonor

Chapter 29 – Honor and Dishonor

" _Virtue is persecuted more by the wicked than it is loved by the good." - Buddha_

Baron Miklos Kruków fought desperately as the Valdemaran forces closed in. At his side, his son Balázs reeled, barely staying upright while the young man's blood stained the saddle and neck of his horse.

Baron Kruków cursed as he saw the Sunsguard withdrawing on his right, opening a gap between his company and theirs. Valdemarans poured through the gap, moving behind his men to join with another column coming around on Baron Kruków's left. In a sunwidth, the Valdemarans completely encircled Baron Kruków's company.

"Rise with the Sun, Kruk Góra!" Miklos shouted the family motto.

"Rise with the Sun, Kruk Góra!" His company echoed. They closed ranks, facing outwards against the enemy surrounding them.

Instead of closing and engaging, the Valdemarans stayed back a pace with their swords at the ready. Directly in front of Baron Kruków, the enemy line parted wide enough for two riders to come to the front. One was a Valdemaran major on a chestnut warhorse; the other was a White Demon on his Demon Horse, carrying a parley flag.

"Baron Miklos Kruków, your position is hopeless. Surrender. Save the lives of your men." The officer spoke in Karsite with only a trace of an accent.

Baron Kruków spat on the ground. "Kruk Góra does not surrender to demons or their lackeys! Rise with the Sun, Kruk Góra!" His men cheered.

"Brave words, Baron Miklos, spoken by a brave and loyal man." The major said. "You honor your ancestors, but what honor do you serve invading our land? Lay down your arms and live to serve Karse and Vkandis again."

"I serve Vkandis, you serve demons!" Baron Miklos retorted. "You speak my name, yet you do not give me yours. Do you have a name?"

The Valdemaran smiled. "I am Major Urson Tewkes-Felthan, My Lord Baron. I serve my Queen and Valdemar. Is it Vkandis you serve or merely Hierophant Rhithik?"

Though shaken by the fact Major Tewkes-Felthan knew who ordered the invasion, Baron Miklos continued to put on a brave face. "I serve those the Sunlord has placed over me." The baron despised Rhithik, but he would not give this enemy an opening.

The major raised his hand and pointed upslope. "See how Rhithik abandons you! He has not kept faith!"

Baron Miklos looked where the Valdemaran pointed to see the Sunsguard lifting the priest onto the back of a horse. His heart sank as he turned back to Major Tewkes-Felthan. He braced his shoulders. "I have kept my faith! Rise with the Sun, Kruk Góra!" His men cheered again, though less bravely than before.

The Valdemaran drew his dagger and pulled off a glove. "And I shall keep faith with you." He pricked the base of his thumb with the dagger and a trickle of blood ran down the blade. "By my blood and honor, if you surrender now, neither you nor your men shall be harmed. In time, you will return to your land, whole and entire, body and soul. May the Sun burn me if I prove false!"

Before Miklos could reply, Balázs moaned and tumbled from his saddle. The baron's men crowded around to aid his heir. Baron Miklos bit his lip. Raising his sword, he tossed it lightly and caught the blade in his mailed hand. Pointing the hilt towards the Major, he said "So be it. In the light of the Sunlord, I hold you to your vow!"

Major Tewkes-Felthan rode forward at a walk. The Baron's armsmen parted to let him through. When the Valdemaran reached Miklos, the latter held out his sword, hilt first. Urson took the sword, gripping it by the blade just below the hilt. He kissed the hilt, then handed the sword back to the baron. Wide-eyed, Miklos took the sword and sheathed it. "Weapons down!" He ordered.

With wary looks, the baron's men lowered their swords and sheathed them cautiously.

For the first time, the Demon Rider spoke, uttering a command in Valdemaran. The enemy soldiers sheathed their weapons as cautiously as the baron's men had.

Several people in green uniforms made their way around the Demon Horse. "Allow our healers to assist you." Urson said. The healers began moving among the baron's armsmen. Two of them went to Balázs and knelt beside the boy. One of them looked up at Urson and said something.

"He's lost a lot of blood." Urson said to Miklos. "They need to get him to their tent. They can do better for him there."

Baron Kruków jumped down from his horse and knelt beside his son, taking Balázs' hand. Balázs opened his eyes "Rise with the Sun, Kruk Góra!" the boy croaked. With tears in his eyes, Miklos looked at the healer and nodded.

The Valdemarans produced a stretcher and lifted Balázs onto it. Two of the baron's armsmen lifted the stretcher, following one of the healers. Miklos went with them, still grasping his son's hand.

###

Grimacing at the bitter taste, Ragnar sipped his willowbark tea while he watched the captured Karsites cremate their dead. Father Gagen finished the prayer and cast a torch on the pyre. The flames caught quickly, blazing high as the sun touched the horizon in the west. The Sunsguard and the baron's armsmen chanted the sundescending prayer in honor of Vkandis and their fallen comrades.

"So what do we do with them?" Ragnar asked Jan as they watched the funeral rite.

"Major Tewkes-Felthan says send them home." His fellow Herald replied. "Pretend today's battle never happened." Ragnar looked askance at Jan. Jan shrugged back. "We've got a major war with Hardorn that we weren't prepared for. That Black Robe Priest appears to have acted on his own initiative – according to our sources, Karse does not want a war right now. They'd love to wipe us out, but they're still drained from the Tedrels. They're probably happy just to let us and Hardorn bleed each other."

Ragnar sighed, wincing at the pain in his chest. The healers had bound his ribs and treated his bruises, then berated him for insisting on returning to duty. The healers snorted derisively at Ragnar's promise to take it easy, but Ragnar felt he had no choice. With the exception of Tobias, who was on his way back to Haven with the news of the battles at Ravens Gorge and Leiden Pass, the others had returned to Ravens Gorge to help General Chase.

He took another sip of the tea. "I suppose you and the major both know the politics and diplomacy better than I do." As the firstborn son of a wealthy baron, Jan lived with highborn politics from birth; Major Tewkes-Felthan was also the son of a baron, though much a much humbler one than Jan's father, and held a courtesy title of Count as the husband of the heiress to County Tewkes.

Jan snorted. "Doesn't take much diplomatic knowledge to understand the risks of a two-front war."

An aide summoned the two Heralds to a meeting with Major Tewkes-Felthan and his officers.

"What do you know about Baron Kruków?" Urson asked. Jan shook his head and looked at Ragnar.

"Very little, all of it rumor and third hand." Ragnar said. "Major Pfizer respected him, but only met Baron Kruków in a few formal meetings at the border. Szymon Lucja said Baron Kruków and Hierophant Rhithik hate one another. Walter Bloem was one of his peasants and only knew the rumors commoners hear about highborn – he said Baron Miklos had a reputation for being house-proud."

The major thinned his lips. "Not much to go on. I'm thinking of sending him back, but I want to be sure I don't regret it."

"We can't answer that for you." Jan said. "Why don't you talk to him?"

The meeting moved on to other topics. A quarter of the Hardornens defected, all very young men who claimed Oberst Winkler's men conscripted them from their homes near Rabenbrücke. They pleaded to stay in Valdemar. Major Tewkes-Felthan agreed they could stay pending a visit from Major Pfizer, who had not yet returned from his rescue mission.

Ragnar reported in detail what he'd seen in Kruk Góra. The officers discussed what to do about the now-widened smuggler's trail on the Karse side; most wanted it sabotaged, though Valdemaran law prohibited any intrusion into neighboring lands. For now, they would garrison a company at Leiden.

###

In the darkened Healers' tent, Miklos Kruków held his son's hand. Balázs breathed softly as he slept, pale from loss of blood. Miklos prayed to the Sunlord that his son would live – if the Sunlord would hear him in this land – and worried about his home. He did not trust the deceitful Rhithik in his absence.

"How is your son?" Miklos looked up to see Major Tewkes-Felthan standing beside him. He rose and saluted his captor. The major returned his salute before motioning Baron Kruków to resume his seat and seating himself.

"Your healers say he will live. I – I thank you for caring for him." The baron looked around the tent. "And my men as well. I - I didn't expect it."

"I swore you would return home, safe and whole." The major said.

Miklos flushed. In truth, he had expected torture, humiliation and death at the hands of the demon-lovers, as the Sunpriests called their ancient enemies. "I wasn't sure." He admitted. Out of the corner of his eye, the baron could see men on nearby cots listening to the conversation, which was in Karsite.

Major Tewkes-Felthan did not take offense; he was well aware of the tales told in Karse. "He's a brave and loyal lad. Such men deserve respect and honor. As do their sires." He looked Miklos in the eye. "His face bears his father's image, I want to know whether his spirit is also like his father's."

Miklos Kruków raised his head. "I am proud to have such a son. He keeps his faith and his word, as do I."

"As will I." The Valdemaran said. "How soon will he and the others be ready to move?"

Suspicion overcame gratitude. "Where are you taking us?" Miklos asked sharply.

Major Tewkes-Felthan grinned. "Why, nowhere. I assumed you wished to return home as soon as possible."

It sounded too good to be true. "What do you ask in return? Ransom? Hostages?" Baron Kruków was certain there must be a catch.

Urson merely smiled. "Why nothing, My Lord." He sighed. "We are suddenly at war with Hardorn. I am sure you can understand that we do not want war with Karse at the same time.

"Beyond that, I ask that you believe we are not monsters but people like your own. People who seek only to live in peace." He offered his hand.

After a moment's hesitation, Miklos took the Valdemaran officer's hand. "I thank you." He said. "Your healers say it will be ten days before he is able to ride and a moon before he recovers fully."

Major Tewkes-Felthan stood and Baron Kruków rose with him. "Then you may rest here for however long you need. For now, I have more duties. Good night and I will see you in the morning."

Baron Kruków bid the major good night and the officer left. As Urson passed between the rows of injured Karsites, several of the men softly thanked him.

###

"You can't do this." Ragnar said to his friend. "Only the Queen and the Heraldic Circle can give me orders."

"Oh yes I can." Urson chuckled. "Healer Eevi has put you on the injured list. Which gives me the power as the senior guard officer present to order you to rest in place." To keep Ragnar in Leiden until Baron Kruków left, Urson took advantage of an obscure clause in the Law on Heralds intended to prevent Heralds over-extending themselves.

"You put her up to it!" Ragnar accused Urson.

Urson pretended to be hurt. "How could you suggest that I would ask Healer Eevi Shlyakhter abuse her position?"

"Because I've known you for ten years." Ragnar said sourly. He sighed. "Very well. What do you want me to do?"

Major Tewkes-Felthan turned serious. "I don't think our baron is going to make any trouble, at least not deliberately, but there is bound to be friction and resentment here in Leiden until he and his men leave. Same with those Hardornen boys; I hope we can get Major Pfizer here shortly to deal with them."

He pointed at Ragnar. "You're the only one available who speaks Valdemaran, Karsite and Hardornen."

"There's Katie, Jan and Pike." Ragnar pointed out.

"General Chase needs that incredible Gift of Katie's at hand. It would be wasted here. And Pike's ability to farspeak you Heralds is too valuable as a means of communication. As for the others," Urson waved his hand to the world beyond. "Somebody's got to keep the ordinary business of Valdemar going while we deal with Hardorn. They're going to be spread thin."

"What if things go sideways?" Ragnar asked.

"I'm leaving Lieutenant Halmar and a company here in Leiden until we decide what to do about that improved trail." Urson said.

###

In three languages, the men in the village square belted out 'The Grey Stallion', led by the scarlet-clad bard on the stage. To avoid resentment, Ragnar decreed the local inn reserved for residents of the village itself, but the innkeeper could put temporary tables in the square to serve the troops of all three countries. Baron Kruków, Leutnant Furst and Lieutenant Halmar saw to it that the troopers each had a little money to spend. Jack Bernston, owner of the White Horse pub, was only too happy to serve extra tables.

Ragnar reflected that the Karsites might be uneasy inside the pub, which featured several images of Herald Vanyel and his Companion Yfandes as well as a framed "lock of Yfandes' mane."

Mikizi snorted over the latter. _::You'd have to snatch every Companion who ever lived bald to supply all the "locks of Yfandes" displayed in Valdemar.::_

Ragnar sat with the Baron and the officers at a raised table on one side of the square, young Balázs, permitted out of the healer's tent for the first time, sat beside his father. The five spoke in Hardornen, which was the only language they all had in common.

"It's odd how the same song is sung everywhere." Leutnant Furst waved his right arm, still bound with a sling, towards the minstrel.

"Herald Bredin hated that song." Lieutenant Halmar said. When the others looked at him, Austin Halmar told the others how the song was about Bredin, passing on what Bredin's yearmate Jan said in Redruth a few moons before.

"I never knew…." Ragnar began.

"Look out!" Balázs tackled Ragnar, sending him tumbling off his chair. A pair of crossbow bolts chipped the stone on the wall behind them. The square erupted in screams and shouts.

Ragnar peeked over the edge of the table to see a brawl on the far side of the square, where soldiers from all three countries were attacking someone. His ribs protested in pain as Ragnar got to his feet. With Lieutenant Halmar at his side, he headed towards the fight. As he went, the crowd parted to let him through.

Ragnar shouted for order and the brawlers pulled back, revealing a pair of very battered men. Ragnar spotted a Sundisk pendant around the neck of one of them. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" He asked in Karsite.

"Die, Demon!" One of them shouted. Against the many hands holding him, he lunged and spat at Ragnar. Several men began punching him again until Ragnar told them to stop.

Ragnar placed the Truth Spell on the man. The Valdemarans smiled knowingly at the blue glow while the rest showed uncertainty and fear. A few of the Karsites made sun-signs. Baron Kruków and his son, who had come up behind him, gasped softly.

Under questioning, the two men revealed they had come to assassinate Ragnar. The baron's men looked shamefaced as they heard. For the Valdemarans and Hardornens, a few of their fellows translated for them; angry shouts rose through the crowd as the word spread and they glared hatred at the Karsites.

Ragnar raised his hand for silence. Sternly, he told the crowd not to blame the innocent for a few fanatics, pointing out that Lord Balázs was the one who saved his life. He repeated his words in Karsite and Hardornen before embracing the young man and kissing him on both cheeks in the Karsite style.

 _::Ten years ago, your clansmen would have clubbed you to death for that.::_ Mikizi observed wryly.

 _::Oh shut up.::_ Ragnar said.

The crowd relaxed visibly and Ragnar turned back to the prisoners. They revealed Hierophant Rhithik had placed a bounty of a thousand sols on Ragnar's head – double that if they brought Ragnar to Rhithik still alive – payable to anyone who killed the Herald. If they succeeded and died, Rhithik would pay their families.

Miklos Kruków snorted behind Ragnar. "Assuming that crooked bastard kept his word." Several of his men echoed their lord's contempt.

Satisfied he had learned all he could, Ragnar turned to Baron Kruków. "Well, My Lord, what should I do with them?"

The baron stiffened his back and bowed slightly. "Young man, I am dishonored by these men. I and they are at your mercy."

Ragnar sniffed. "My Lord, these are not your men. I hold you blameless in this. You have not broken your parole. I ask you only because they are your vassals."

Baron Kruków lifted his head proudly. He sneered at the prisoners. "I repudiate them. Do with them as you wish. May they burn in Hell." He spat at the prisoners' feet.

Ragnar turned back to the prisoners. "The simplest way would be to send you back to Hierophant Rhithik with a message that you failed."

The two men paled, knowing what Rhithik would do to them. The baron's troopers grinned; a few called out "send them back," a sentiment that spread as others translated into Valdemaran and Hardornen.

"However, I think it more proper you should be tried here." Ragnar turned to Lieutenant Halmar. "As I am the target, I do not think it appropriate I should try the case. I remand them to you."

Austin Halmar signaled his men to take the two prisoners. There was no actual gaol in the village, so they chained the would-be assassins in a stout root cellar.

The next morning, Anton Mazur, newly promoted to Colonel, chaired the tribunal, made up of himself, Captain Ritter and Lieutenant Halmar. For the appearance of impartiality, he added Major Pfizer and Leutnant Furst. At noon, they hung the assassins outside of the village, witnessed by the villagers and troops from all three countries.

After the hangings, Baron Kruków led his men and the few captured Sunsguard troopers back over the pass towards Kruk Góra and Major Pfizer went back to Ravens Gorge with the Hardornen conscripts.

###

In the aftermath, Ragnar had to spend two more days in Leiden to clear things up, including arranging for a place to garrison Lieutenant Halmar and his company.

With so much to do in the past two sennights, Ragnar hadn't been able to help Walter Bloem and his children as much as he wanted. Instead, Noah Farkette, the headman of Leiden took Goodman Bloem and his family into his home as extremely honored guests. The headman's daughter, Julia, spoke some Karsite and helped the family make their way around. Julia began teaching Gerd and Sena basic Valdemaran. When the villagers learned what Walter Bloem had done, everyone offered help.

The lavish gratitude embarrassed Walter, who wanted to find his own way. By the time Ragnar was able to turn his attention back to the Bloems, he had word from Haven.

He visited Walter at the headman's residence. Across the table, he explained to Walter how his children had Gifts and were entitled to training for those Gifts at the Healers' and Bardic Collegia in Haven. "As their parent, you are entitled to the same stipend a Valdemaran family would receive in similar circumstances. You are a hard-working and able farmer; to allow you to be near your children, the seneschal offers you a position as a worker on the Home Farms. The pay would be five shillings per moon. That is about the same as six rays per moon." Ragnar knew the standard pay on the Home Farms was nearly double what an ordinary farmer could earn in Valdemar or Karse.

Walter nodded. "It seems very generous, but I don't speak Valdemaran. Nor do my children."

Ragnar gave a little smile. "In Haven, there is a Temple of the Lord of Light, as Vkandis is known in Valdemar. Gerichen, the Priest of the temple, will be happy to teach you and your children our language." Walter had already met Father Gagen; he knew the Sunlord was freely worshipped.

Ragnar had one more surprise for Walter Bloem. "In gratitude for you sheltering me in Kruk Góra, at a terrible risk to yourself and your children, and in compensation for the loss of your farm, the Royal Council bestows on you the sum of five hundred Crowns. That is about six hundred sols."

Walter Bloem sat up in astonishment. He opened his mouth to protest.

Before he could speak, a guardsman burst through the door of the house. "Herald! Come quick! Baron Kruków is coming back!" With a hurried apology to Walter Bloem, Ragnar raced after the guardsman.

###

Ragnar was no empath, but could see the marks of grief on Baron Kruków's face as the Karsite nobleman and his men approached the gate of Leiden. At the baron's side, his son's face bore the tracks of tears. Ragnar ordered the gate opened and walked out to meet them with Mikizi at his side. Lieutenant Halmar walked with him.

Guessing something was wrong, Ragnar did not challenge the baron, and instead he asked tactfully "Baron Kruków, may we help you?"

Miklos Kruków took a deep breath and bit his lip before answering. "Herald, I – we have come to beg sanctuary."

Ragnar raised his eyebrows as the baron went on. "For a thousand years, my ancestors have held Kruk Góra for Vkandis and Karse. Not once has it fallen; never once has an enemy taken it from my family by fair means or foul. Until now." Baron Kruków took a deep breath that was half a sob. "That bastard Rhithik has given Kruk Góra to the Hardornens. He has slandered me and my men as heretics and traitors."

At his side, Balázs' shoulders shook and his face crumpled as the young man began weeping openly.

"We have nowhere to turn." The baron said. "I have nothing – nothing at all. In Vkandis' name, we beg for sanctuary."

Ragnar did not hesitate. He remembered a Karsite invocation Ritter taught him. "To the hearth, the board, the bed, be welcome. Our fires burn to warm you, our board is laden to nourish your, our beds soft to rest you. We will share bread and be brothers."

Ragnar repressed a smile at the baron's surprised expression, shared by several of his men. Recovering, Baron Kruków solemnly made the traditional response. He dismounted and shook Ragnar's hand.

While Ragnar and the baron spoke, Austin Halmar quietly translated for the others. Once Ragnar granted sanctuary, the lieutenant ordered the town to admit the Karsites.

Walking at Ragnar's side, Baron Kruków told how Rhithik returned to Kruk Góra and blamed the baron for the defeat at Leiden pass. Outraged by the lie, the surviving Sunsguard and the baron's own men turned on Rhithik, who sought help from the Hardornens who returned with him. These were the worst of Oberst Winkler's thugs, not the conscripts from Rabenbrücke.

They willingly took possession of the fortress and town, supported by more of their kind fleeing Major Pfizer's rescue operation around Rabenbrücke, to which Pfizer added a purge of any of Winkler's toadies he could find. Rhithik and the Hardornen thugs now held Kruk Góra. Rhithik condemned Miklos Kruków as a heretic and traitor, citing the baron's surrender as 'proof.'

Rhithik imposed a reign of terror upon the people of Kruk Góra and openly aligned himself with the Hardornens. They tortured and executed all who opposed them. Baron Kruków's only option was to flee back to Leiden. On their way, he and his men triggered rockslides to block the pass.

Baron Kruków said nothing about his family. Through the baron's subordinates, Ragnar and Lieutenant Halmar learned the Hardornens raped Baroness Kruków so savagely she died of her injuries. They also raped Baron Kruków's two young daughters before Rhithik burned the girls and the baron's two younger sons alive. Rhithik murdered every relation of Miklos Kruków he could lay hands on.

When questioned about his family, Baron Kruków would only repeat "My family held Kruk Góra for a thousand years." Even Austin Halmar, who the baron recognized as a peer due to Austin's being the heir of a viscount, could not get Baron Kruków to speak of his personal loss.

###

Ragnar visited Leiden repeatedly during the remainder of his circuit, eventually persuading Baron Kruków to accept a commission from Viscount Gustav Halmar as commander of a new regiment Austin's father raised for the war against Hardorn.

The Royal Council granted Major Pfizer a title as Baron Pfizer on vacant land in the comb where he and his men could settle. This freed Valdemaran guardsmen who could now fight on the eastern border.

Because of the war, Ragnar expected the Circle and Council would extend his circuit, instead they ordered Ragnar back to Haven at midwinter.


End file.
